Beatty, 
Jellicoe, 
Sims  ani 


J 


ranGisT  Hunter 


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BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS  AND  RODMAN 


Admiral  Sir  David  Beatty,  R.N.,  G.C.B.,  G.C.V.O.,  D.S.O. 

Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Grand  Fleet 

(Autographed  for  the  author  at  the  Admiral's  home  in  Al)erdour,  Scotland, 

shortly  after  the  surrender  of  the  German  Fleet) 


BEATTY,  JELLICOE, 
SIMS  AND  RODMAN 

Yankee  Gobs  and  British  Tars, 
as  Seen  by  an  *  Anglomaniac' 

BY 

LIEUT.  FRANCIS  T.  HUNTER 

United  States  Navy 


GARDEN  CITY  NEW  YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
1919 


^f. 


COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BT 

DOUBLEDAT,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED,  INCLUDING  THAT  OF 

TRANSLATION  INTO  FOREIGN  LANGUAGES, 

INCLUDING  THE  SCANDINAVIAN 


TO  MY 

CAPTAIN  AT  HOME 

WHO  BY  HER 

COURAGE,  HOPE  AND  LOVE 

"SENT  ME  AWAY  WITH  A  SMILE" 

THIS  BOOK  I  LOVINGLY  INSCRIBE 


^51421 


.   FOREWORD 

Little  Captain, 

In  one  of  your  less  recent  letters  there  is  a  casual 
remark,  little  considered  by  you,  or  even  by  me 
until,  from  a  smoldering  ember  of  thought  it  has 
brightened,  sputtered,  and  at  last  burst  into 
flame.  *'You  will  have  to  write  a  book,"  you 
remarked,  "to  let  me  share  your  new  experiences." 
Have  you  forgotten  it?  Behold  the  oak,  from  such 
a  tiny  acorn!  But  it  is  not  a  "mighty  oak,"  and 
needs  defense. 

The  wonder  is  that  the  fabric  holds  together  at 
all.  If,  for  a  moment,  you  could  look  back  over  the 
varying  conditions  of  temperature,  climate,  hopes, 
misgivings,  noises,  interruptions,  rolls,  and  pitches 
under  which  these  pages  have  been  written  you  would 
excuse  every  irregularity.  Furthermore,  despite 
their  novelty,  these  experiences  present  no  single 
hero,  an  author's  greatest  friend,  for  you  to  follow. 

Still,  the  advantage  is  mine,  for  I  fear  no  critics. 
This  little  work  is  for  you,  and  after  that  for  others 
who  may  care  for  it.  Please  try  to  have  a  pleasant 
time.  You  feel  doubtful — ^but  you  know  all  jour- 
neys to  war  are  doubtful! 

Above  all  don't  you  be  a  critic! 

F.  T.  H. 

vii 


CONTENTS 

\  PAGE 

Foreword vii 

Iniroduction — ^By  Admiral  Hugh  Rodman  xiii 

CHAPTKB 

L    "Toward  THE  Goal" 3 

II.    At  Home  With  Admiral  Beatty    .  15 

III.  Nelsons  of  To-day    .....  25 

IV.  American  Admirals  at  War     .     .  38 
V.    Kings,  Queens,  and  American  Jacks  55 

VI.    Out  of  the  Water 72 

VII.    Backing  Beatty 93 

VIII.     The  American  Gob  at  War.     .     .  119 

IX.    The  Teeth  of  Beatty's  Bulldogs  142 

X.    Comrades  of  the  Mists       .     .     .  159 

XI.    The  Surrender  of  the  German 

Fleet 171 

XII.    Homeward  Bound 179 

XIII.    The  Sinking  of  the  German  Fleet  197 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Admiral  Sir  David  Beatty       .     .        Frontispiece 


PAGB 


Rear  Admiral  Hugh  Rodman 16 

Admiral  Sir  John  Jellicoe 17 

Admiral  William  S.  Sims    ......  32 

The  Smile  that  Whipped  the  German  Navy  33 

The  Great  Union 48 

Part  of  the  American  Battle  Squadron  .      .  49 

The  Prophesy 64 

Typical  North  Sea  Conditions      ....  65 

Admiral  Beatty  Chatting  With  the  King      .  88 

The  Submarine  Defence  Nets  in  the  Firth  of 

Forth 88 

Tennis  on  Admiral  Beatty's  Court  in  Aber- 

dour,  Scotland 89 

Admiral   Rodman   and   His   Four   Original 

Captains 89 

"Sixteen  Blue!" 89 

A  Sea  of  Thought 104 

Admiral  Jellicoe  Off  Duty 104 

A  Bit  of  Fireworks  for  the  King  and  Queen  of 

Belgium 105 

A  Snapshot  for  the  Queen's  Collection    ,     .  105 

zi 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


The  Flagship  at  Attention 105 

Rear  Admiral  Hugh  Rodman 112 

On  the  New  York's  Quarterdeck   ....  113 

"Above  and  Below" 128 

King  George  Inspects  the  American  Flagship  129 

An  Unprecedented  Courtesy 144 

Manning  the  Rail 144 

The  Quartermaster's  Watch 145 

Admiral  Beatty  of  the  Flagship  Lion      .      .  160 

Lieutenant  Clifton  B.  Herd,  U.S.N.,  and  the 

Author 161 

The  New  York  from  a  Kite  Balloon   ...  176 

Steaming  in  Column 177 

An  Important  Inspection 192 

The  Night  Patrol 193 

H.M.S.  Revenge 200 

A  Surrendered  German  Submarine     .      .      .  200 

The  British  Flag  on  Captured  Pirates     .      .  200 

Their  Last  Bow        .      .      ...      .     .     .  201 

Comrades  to  a  Finish    .....;.  201 


xu 


INTRODUCTION 
UNITED  STATES  ATLANTIC  FLEET 

BATTLESHIP  FORCE  TWO 

u.  s.  s.  New  York,  flagship 

April  15,  1919. 
Dear  Mr,  Hunter: 

It  will  be  a  pleasure  to  comply  with  the  request 
contained  in  your  letter  of  April  ISth  for  an  ex- 
pression of  my  views,  which  you  are  privileged 
to  use. 

In  reference  to  the  cordial  relations  which  existed 
between  the  British  and  American  naval  forces,  I 
was  surprised  to  learn  that  there  had  ever  been  but 
one  idea  on  the  subject  on  the  part  of  any  one,  in 
or  out  of  the  service,  for  surely  to  those  of  us 
whose  work  during  the  war  was  always  in  close 
contact  with  the  British  navy  in  the  war  zone,  no 
such  question  ever  arose.  On  the  other  hand,  I 
wish  to  state  most  positively  and  without  the 
slightest  reservation,  that  no  happier  or  more  cor- 
dial relations  could  possibly  have  existed  than 
those  which  obtained  between  our  two  navies 
which  performed  war  service  together.  I  served 
directly  under  the  command  of  Sir  David  Beatty, 

xiii 


»v'  INTRODUCTION 

than  whom  no  better  or  more  gallant  and  efficient 
leader  ever  trod  the  deck  of  a  battleship. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  the  close,  homo- 
geneous, and  brotherly  cooperation  in  the  Grand 
Fleet  was  an  example  of  what  two  nations  could  do 
that  had  a  common  cause,  whose  hearts  were  in 
the  right  place  and  in  their  work,  and  was  an 
example  and  possibly  the  incentive  which  first 
prompted  the  Allies  to  place  all  of  their  armies  un- 
der the  command  of  Marshal  Foch,  and  which, 
as  was  proved,  was  the  most  logical  way  in  which 
to  win  the  war. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  our  destroyer 
force  did  valiant  service  against  the  Hun  subma- 
rine; that  our  heavy  artillery  force — manned  by 
naval  gunners  with  its  14-inch  guns  mounted  on 
railway  carriages,  each  throwing  a  shell  that 
weighed  1,400  pounds,  and  which  operated  with  the 
army  at  the  front — ^made  their  presence  a  dread  to 
Hun  strongholds  which  could  not  otherwise  have 
been  reached  by  gunfire;  that  our  mining  force  in 
the  North  Sea,  by  laying  a  barrage  or  string  of 
mines  from  the  Norwegian  coast  to  the  Orkney 
Islands  across  the  North  Sea,  aided  materially  by 
adding  to  the  danger  of  any  Hun  submarine  or  sur- 
face craft  that  might  attempt  to  gain  the  open 
sea. 

We  have  every  reason  to  be  proud  of,  and  no  rea- 
son to  regret,  the  part  our  navy  played  in  its  work 
during  the  war,  and,  taking  a  retrospective  view. 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

had  we  to  do  it  again,  we  would  not  change  one 
iota,  which  is  the  strongest  proof  that  the  work 
has  been  well  done.  When  I  add  that  I  some- 
times commanded  a  force  with  British  admirals 
under  me,  sometimes  they  commanded  me,  and 
that  no  thought  of  jealousy,  no  thought  of  na- 
tionality, no  thought  of  any  misunderstanding 
ever  arose,  you  will  understand  how  extremely 
close  and  brotherly  were  our  relations. 

There  has  been  a  good  deal  of  advocacy  and  dis- 
cussion of  the  policy  of  furthering  our  bond  of 
union  with  the  British  navy  by  bringing  together  a 
part  or  all  of  the  two  fleets  for  a  time  at  certain 
occasions.  I  have  felt  from  the  first  that  this 
would  be  an  excellent  and  most  beneficial  enter- 
prise, navally  and  nationally,  and  that  such  an 
opportunity  for  national  gain  should  not  be  neg- 
lected. I  am  sure  that  His  Majesty  King  George 
of  Great  Britain  shares  this  feeling,  for  when  the 
matter  was  broached  to  him  he  acquiesced  very 
strongly  and  expressed  the  hope  that  our  fleets 
may  meet  again  yearly  in  friendly  visits,  not  by  a 
written  agreement,  but  by  a  national  and  friendly 
desire  to  perpetuate  the  deep-rooted,  and  if  I  may 
use  the  word,  affectionate  relations  which  have 
obtained  between  our  naval  forces. 

Should  the  time  ever  come  again  in  the  future, 
as  it  has  done  in  this  war,  there  is  no  question  in 
my  mind  but  that  we  shall  stand  together  through 
thick  and  thin,  fight  together  and  win  together. 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

I  consider  it  an  honour  to  have  served  under  such 
a   worthy   chief  as   Admiral   Sir   David   Beatty, 
Commander  in  Chief  of  the  Grand  Fleet. 
Very  sincerely, 

Hugh  Rodman, 
Rear  Admiral,  United  States  Navy. 

Lieutenant  F.  T.  Hunter,  U.S.N. 
New  Rochelle,  N.  Y. 


BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS  AND  HODMAN 


BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS, 
AND  RODMAN 

CHAPTER   I 

"TOWARD  THE  GOAL" 

ORDERED  TO  THE  "nEW  YORK."      THE  CROSSING  OF  THE 

AMERICAN  BATTLE  SQUADRON  AND  ITS  HISTORIC  UNION 

WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  OF  BRITAIN 

Where  lies  the  land  to  which  the  ship  would  go  ? 
Far,  far  ahead,  is  all  her  seamen  know. 
And  where  the  land  she  travels  from  ?    Away, 
Far,  far  behind,  is  all  that  they  can  say, 

— Clough. 

TO  THE  peaceful  American  of  1914,  the 
sunny  twenty-eighth  of  June  showed  no 
irregularities.  The  world  dozed  happily 
in  prosperity.  Yet  on  that  very  day  there  was 
committed  the  most  momentous  crime  the  world 
has  ever  known.  The  Archduke  Francis  Ferdi- 
nand, heir  to  the  Austrian  throne,  was  murdered  in 
Serajevo,  the  capital  of  Bosnia,  by  a  Serb.  By 
that  murder,  obscure  at  the  time,  the  entire  geo- 
graphic, political,  and  social  conditions  of  the  face 
of  the  civilized  and  uncivilized  globe  were  to  be 
altered.     Generations  unborn  would  reek  in  its 


4      BEAIT;^,  JITLIICOS.  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

blood,  and  generations  that  had  passed  would 
turn  their  heads  in  awe.  Through  five  long  years 
its  outcome  would  so  undermine  the  world  that 
every  nook  and  corner,  east  and  west,  from  pole 
to  pole,  would  be  affected  so  that  ages  unconceived 
would  weigh  its  blow. 

Incidentally,  it  affected  the  tiny  life  and  career 
of  me. 

In  the  Autumn  of  that  epoch-making  year,  with 
war  to  us  an  actual  impossibility,  the  first  faint 
zephyrs  of  a  strange  east  wind  could  be  detected. 
The  threatening  draughts  of  such  a  wind  as  we 
had  never  known.  A  cold  and  bitter  wind,  before 
whose  blast  many  a  man  of  us  would  wither.  We 
knew  not,  nor  understood,  as  we  faced  the  fresh- 
ening gale. 

In  1914  it  threatened  to  stop  our  international 
sports;  it  altered  commerce.  In  1915  it  threatened 
the  San  Francisco  Exposition  and  tied  up  our 
freight.  In  1916  it  carried  a  mad  tide  of  avarice 
that  engulfed  the  land.  Horrors  of  war  we  had  not 
felt.  Through  these  two  years  no  human  mind  in 
America  had  been  able  to  adjust  itself  to  the  new 
heavens  and  the  new  earth  which  had  sprung  into 
being  at  the  thunderclap  of  war. 

Then  suddenly,  against  the  misty  background  of 
that  distant  war,  we  felt  the  Prussian  dagger  stab. 
The  Lusitania  !  With  realization  came  an  out- 
burst of  America's  two  years  of  pent-up  feelings. 
We  were  insulted  by  a  pirate  nation!    Treated  as 


"TOWARD  THE  GOAL"  5 

a  weakling!  Ordered  frora  the  seas!  Our  vessels 
sunk!  Our  sailors  killed  in  scorn!  We  came  to 
know  the  German  colours  as  the  German  knows 
them — ^black,  red,  and  white:  Durch  Nacht  und 
Blut  zur  Licht!''  (Through  night  and  blood  to 
light!)  The  Germans  ground  our  sword.  There 
was  but  one  inevitable  course  to  take. 

On  the  lucky  thirteenth  of  March,  1917,  nearly 
a  month  before  the  President  actually  declared  a 
state  of  war,  I  was  sworn  into  the  United  States 
Naval  Reserve  Force  as  an  ensign,  and  assigned 
to  duty  as  assistant  in  establishing  a  base  for  sub- 
marine chasers  and  for  training  men  in  New  York 
harbour.  From  a  dingy  little  corner  drug  store 
and  a  handful  of  men,  there  has  evolved  the  great 
Naval  Barracks  at  Bay  Ridge,  which  at  the  signing 
of  the  Armistice,  housed  9,000  men.  After  three 
months  duty  there,  Commander  Franklin  sent  me 
to  the  first  reserve  oflicer's  training  class  at  Anna- 
polis for  intensive  training.  A  summer  hot  as 
Hades  made  up  of  seventeen-hour  days,  left  me  one 
of  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  officers  considered 
fit  for  sea.  Far  were  we  from  fitted,  as  sad  exper- 
ience later  taught,  but  so  at  least  we  were  con- 
sidered. 

On  the  fifteenth  of  September  I  was  ordered  to 
the  New  York,  It  was  pure  chance  to  draw  an 
ace,  for  at  that  time  no  one  even  knew  that  the 
New  York  would  go  over.  My  lucky  star  was 
shining.     After   two   months   of   cruising  on   the 


6      ^BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

Atlantic  coast  we  were  ordered  suddenly,  and 
secretly,  to  the  Brooklyn  Navy  Yard  for  prepara- 
tion. There  followed  a  hectic  week.  Although 
we  knew  what  it  meant,  it  was  almost  too  much  to 
grasp.  The  days  tore  by  until,  on  the  hazy  driz- 
zling afternoon  of  November  22nd,  enshrouded 
in  a  veil  of  mist,  we  steamed  under  the  great  East 
River  spans  to  the  sea.  The  Ninth  Division  of 
the  Atlantic  Fleet,  under  Rear  Admiral  Rodman, 
on  his  flagship,  the  New  York,  made  rendezvous 
at  Linnhaven  Roads  on  November  24th.  Twelve 
hours  later  four  great  anchors  hove  in  sight,  and 
eight  huge  funnels  furiously  belched  black,  as 
sixteen  propellers  took  up  a  droning  throb  that 
for  days  to  come  we  knew  would  be  incessant. 
The  line  of  steaming  monsters  laid  their  course 
northeast. 

The  first  days  of  that  memorable  passage  were 
marked  more  with  sentiment  than  interest.  But 
the  morning  of  the  twenty-ninth  foretold  a  dif- 
ferent tale.  My  watch  commenced  at  midnight 
under  a  big  yellow  moon.  At  two  a.  m.  a  nasty 
ring  showed  clearly  around  it,  growing  more  and 
more  intense.  At  three  the  breeze  hauled  easterly 
and  scud  began  to  fly.  It  looked  like  a  nasty  rainy 
day  ahead.  We  were  about  a  hundred  miles  off  the 
Grand  Banks  of  Newfoundland  and  expecting 
poor  weather,  but  when  I  noticed,  at  four  a.  m. 
that  the  barometer  had  been  dropping  at  the  rate 
of  .07  an  hour  and  that  the  thickening  scud  was 


"TOWARD  THE  GOAL"  7 

driving  low,  I  felt  we  were  in  for  something 
bad. 

I  awakened  at  ten  to  the  heavy  plunging  of  the 
ship.  It  was  dark  weather,  and  blowing  a  moder- 
ate gale.  Spray,  rain,  and  hail  drove  past  the 
port,  and  thinking  it  would  not  last  I  felt  glad  of 
no  watch  until  six.  At  two  o'clock,  the  barometer 
had  fallen  to  29.00  and  the  wind  increased  to  60 
miles.  At  three  the  barometer  read  28.93  and 
the  wind  registered  70.  At  six,  bundled  like  an 
Esquimau,  I  made  for  the  veranda  deck,  Guns 
20  and  21,  to  take  the  watch. 

Not  until  the  thing  actually  hits  one,  can  a  real 
storm  be  appreciated.  Without  any  exaggerated 
attempt  at  description,  without  any  hysterical 
effort  to  portray,  the  wild  fury  of  this  North 
Atlantic  hurricane  may  be  best  brought  out  by  a 
few  details.  Captain  Hughes  has  been  at  sea  for 
thirty  years.  In  the  navy  and  out,  he  has  plied 
the  seven  seas.  On  two  occasions  only,  he  said, 
has  he  seen  the  equal  of  this  storm.  Both  were 
typhoons  in  the  China  Sea. 

Approaching  the  deck  I  was  warned  to  use  care, 
for  the  wind  registered  over  ninety  miles  an  hour. 
I  scarcely  believed  it.  A  breath  on  deck  convinced 
me.  Solid  green  spray  prevented  more  than 
fifteen  feet  of  vision  from  a  protected  spot;  while 
in  the  open,  eyes  were  valueless.  To  walk  was 
utterly  impossible.  Dragging  along  on  hands  and 
knees  I  gained  the  shelter  of  the  second  turret,  and 


8      BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

found  a  five-inch  gun  crew  huddled  there,  afraid 
to  risk  the  trip  to  their  hatchway.  A  foot  of 
water  swept  constantly  over  the  deck,  carrying  all 
before  it.  By  forming  a  human  chain  I  sent  the 
men  below  and  secured  the  guns,  which  of  course 
were  rendered  useless.  To  think  of  manning  one 
of  these  outside  guns  was  ridiculous,  and  as  our 
gun  deck  had  been  drowned  out  and  secured  hours 
before,  the  ship's  great  battery  was  now  one  use- 
less mass  of  junk.  At  many  points  we  were  taking 
water,  but  the  serious  side  did  not  impress  us.  Of 
course  this  sort  of  thing  couldn't  last! 

The  seas  continued  to  mount,  and  were  breaking 
on  board  with  each  plunge.  The  terrific  roar  on 
deck  had  become  deafening.  Shouting  directly 
into  a  man's  ear  was  of  no  avail  against  the  wild 
shriek  of  this  tempest  as  it  drove  through  our  rig- 
ging. Each  wire  acted  like  a  steam  whistle.  I 
have  never  heard  such  a  noise.  Even  the  thund- 
ering crash  of  a  sea,  showering  tons  of  water  on  us 
from  stem  to  stern,  was  lost.  And  this  same  water, 
forcing  into  every  conceivable  opening,  rushed 
below  in  most  alarming  volume.  For  half  an  hour 
I  managed  to  stay  in  the  lee  of  that  turret.  Look- 
ing up  toward  the  bridge  I  could  see  streams  of 
brilliant  phosphorus  pass  overhead,  cast  up  from  the 
bow  with  the  sheets  of  green  sea.  It  carried  clear 
over  our  bridge  and  funnels.  Often  the  water 
was  knee  deep  where  I  stood,  a  rushing  cataract. 

Word  came  at  last  to  abandon  all  gun  watches 


"TOWARD  THE  GOAL"  9 

and  I  lay  below.  It  was  Thanksgiving  night.  A 
banquet  was  in  progress  in  our  mess,  far  from 
the  raging  storm.  Admiral  Rodman  was  our  guest. 
It  was  well  that  we  relished  that  meal,  for  it  was 
destined  to  be  our  last  for  quite  some  time.  We 
could  hear  the  dull  whistling  roar  above;  feel  the 
shock  of  the  pounding  seas;  brace  ourselves  against 
each  pitch  and  roll.  But  it  was  Thanksgiving 
night,  and  the  spirit  of  the  feast  continued,  noth- 
ing daunted. 

The  night  proved  sleepless.  The  frightful 
weather  did  not  abate,  it  increased.  A  heavy 
roll  had  joined  the  pitch,  and  things  began  to 
happen.  We  were  absolutely  unprepared  for  such 
conditions.  The  music  cabinet  and  phonograph 
capsized  with  a  crash,  followed  shortly  by  the 
clattering  smash  of  all  drawers  of  silverware  and 
table  gear  as  they  dropped  bodily  on  the  deck. 
Just  as  we  were  getting  things  secured  the  huge  ice- 
chest  went  over  with  a  shock  that  would  have 
gone  clear  through  an  ordinary  deck.  Meat, 
grease,  milk,  vegetables,  fruit — all  swishing  around 
now  in  the  salt  water  which  covered  our  lower  deck ! 
Tables  and  chairs  slashed  from  side  to  side  of  the 
mess  room,  carrying  all  before  them.  Many  of 
the  mess  were  seasick  now — ^which  added  nothing 
pleasant ! 

Toward  morning  the  water  was  ankle  deep  in 
my  cabin.  Reports  began  to  come  down  from 
above.     Wireless  topmasts  had  carred  away,  des- 


10    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

troying  the  upper  aerials.  Port  lifeboat  was  bat- 
tered in.  Bow  stanchions  snapped  off  at  the  deck, 
and  worst  of  all,  the  forward  hatches  had  sprung. 
Tons  of  water  poured  down  at  every  opening. 
Three  hundred  men  were  working  on  the  leaks 
with  small  success.  We  had  no  ventilation  at  all 
below  decks.  At  four  a.  m.  we  had  six  inches 
of  water  in  the  forward  storerooms.  At  eight 
A.  M.  we  had  eight  feet.  The  gun  deck  was  lit- 
erally afloat,  for  the  gun  shutters  had  been  sprung 
by  the  terrific  pressure.  All  pumps  were  working 
to  capacity. 

We  had  slowed  to  eight,  then  four  knots  speed, 
and  turned  to  quarter  the  seas.  Actually,  we 
were  losing  headway,  as  the  hundred-mile  gale 
drove  us  like  a  toy  across  the  Grand  Banks.  The 
squadron  held  together  remarkably  well.  Dela- 
ware  was  forced  to  run  before  it  and  we  lost  her  for 
the  time.  Our  one  destroyer,  Manley,  could 
scarcely  keep  afloat,  but  drifted  off  to  the  south- 
ward. We  never  saw  her  again.  Wyoming  and 
Florida  were  in  our  general  vicinity  from  start  to 
finish. 

That  night  we  all  decided  it  had  been  a  grave 
mistake  not  to  wait  for  the  draft !  Soaking  clothes 
were  brought  below  and  dropped  in  heaps.  Food 
rotted  in  six  inches  of  dirty  swishing  water, 
while  cooking  was  impossible.  And  we  had  no 
ventilation.  With  boots  still  on,  and  caked  with 
salt,    most    of    us    slept   from    exhaustion.     Just 


"TOWARD  THE  GOAL"  11 

before  suffocation,  it  seemed,  some  one  wakened 
me.  You  could  cut  the  air  with  a  knife!  Every- 
thing and  everybody  seemed  to  have  gone  sour. 
The  combers  were  monstrous  now,  roUing  the 
great  ship  through  an  arc  of  fifty  degrees,  under 
her  very  decks.  The  air  was  one  mass  of  bhnding 
spray,  so  we  had  seen  no  other  ship  for  two  days. 
At  one  o'clock  the  seriousness  of  the  situation 
dawned  on  us  when  word  came  that  we  were  tak- 
ing more  water  than  we  were  clearing.  The  ship 
was  down  by  the  head.  On  order  from  the  Com- 
mander all  hands  turned-to,  formed  bucket- 
brigades,  and  for  five  long  hours  bailed  for  their 
lives !  Bending  every  effort,  we  gradually  checked 
the  increase,  and  held  our  own.  Then  finally, 
toward  evening,  the  fury  of  the  hurricane  abated 
just  enough  to  satisfy  the  pumps.  The  strain 
began  to  tell  heavily  on  the  crew,  whose  quarters 
were  unbearable.  The  heat  from  the  engine  and 
fire  rooms  was  bottled  up  aft,  where  it  combined 
with  the  galley  fumes  to  make  a  veritable  inferno. 
The  thermometer  registered  115  degrees  in  that 
vile  air  which  men  were  forced  to  live  in ! 

At  six  o'clock  the  Captain  announced  the  danger 
past,  to  the  great  relief  of  all.  The  bow  had  suf- 
red  badly,  inside  and  out.  Our  forward  cabins 
had  been  drenched  and  storerooms  soaked.  Twelve 
thousand  pounds  of  sugar,  five  hundred  gallons  of 
paint,  and  five  hundred  gas  masks  were  ruined, 
together  with  a  storeroom  full  of  clothing.     We 


12     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

were  far  behind  our  schedule,  but  could,  at  eight- 
een knots,  still  make  our  rendezvous  with  British 
cruisers  as  appointed.  Next  morning,  one  week 
out,  we  found  the  wind  shifted  astern,  a  thirty- 
mile  breeze.  The  storm  had  broken.  By  after- 
noon we  had  come  into  the  glorious  blue  of  the 
Gulf  Stream  and  were  righting  conditions  below 
decks.  Of  all  the  perils  of  this  voyage,  we  had 
considered  least  of  all  the  elements.  And  the 
elements  had  actually  threatened  to  frustrate  the 
expedition. 

Tense  moments  were  ours  a  few  days  later !  We 
were  nearing  the  goal,  had  entered  the  danger  zone, 
and  were  steaming  directly  for  our  rendezvous. 
We  had  gone  on  a  northern  arc,  only  about  three 
hundred  miles  from  Iceland.  Both  sun  and  stars 
failed  to  appear,  so  we  had  no  sights  to  reckon  by. 
Would  we  hit  our  mark.^^  If  Neptune  showed 
his  wrath  against  our  plans,  Diana  and  Aurora 
gave  us,  at  the  proper  moment,  all  they  had  in 
compensation.  At  five  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
December  seventh,  the  moon  broke  through;  and 
the  clouds,  which  had  shielded  us  in  their  foggy 
folds  from  submarines  for  three  whole  days  and 
nights,  drifted  completely  away.  The  watches 
had  been  doubled.  On  the  horizon,  in  the  moon- 
light, there  suddenly  appeared  a  form,  low  and 
sleek.  Scarcely  had  we  trained  our  threatening 
guns  when  there  came  from  this  strange  form  a 
blinking  light:  AF — AF — ^AF  our  coded  call  letters. 


"TOWARD  THE  GOAL"  13 

We  answered.  She  gave  the  recognition.  It  was 
the  British  hght  cruiser  Constance,  at  her  appointed 
place  of  rendezvous.  Here  was  a  glorification  of 
modern  navigation!  Five  days  without  sights, 
reckoning  from  course  and  engine  room,  at  the 
end  of  a  three-thousand  mile  voyage  with  not  a  few 
vicissitudes,  we  had  struck  the  very  centre  of  our 
aim!  Ten  destroyers  appeared  from  somewhere 
in  space,  formed  around  us,  and  we  breathed  relief 
as  we  fell  into  line  behind  the  Constance  to  enter 
Pentland  Firth.  If  a  submarine  could  have  come 
through  the  protection  which  those  destroyers 
threw  about  us,  then  nothing  could  have  stopped 
a  submarine. 

A  glorious  golden  dawn  inspired  our  entrance  to 
the  firth.  Hills  blending  with  the  clouds,  purple 
and  gold,  reflected  a  wealth  of  sparkling  colours 
in  the  frothy  white  below.  Between  the  fantastic 
cliffs  passed  our  stately  array;  then  sharply  turned 
our  column  to  the  left.  We  entered  Scapa  Flow. 
Through  the  open  gates  of  layers  and  layers  of  nets 
we  wound  our  way,  cheered  by  the  crew  of  every 
patrol  drifter  as  we  passed.  And  then,  as  we 
cleared  the  inner  nets,  and  looked  for  the  first 
time  on  the  world's  most  stupendous  sea  force, 
realizing  at  last  that  we  were  actively  a  part  of  it, 
a  thrill  ran  through  and  through  each  man  of  us. 
The  Grand  Fleet  of  Britain!  How  dignified, 
how  powerful  it  looked!  We  neared  Sir  David 
Beatty's    flagship    as    assigned,    and    when    our 


14     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

anchors  plunged  into  the  flow,  three  mighty  cheers 
went  up  from  Beatty's  Queen  Elizabeth.  It  was 
a  history-making  day;  a  day  which  was  to  bind, 
perhaps  for  ever,  the  EngHsh-speaking  peoples 
of  the  earth.  In  conclusion  I  can  do  no  better 
than  to  quote  that  celebrated  British  naval  writer 
*'Bartimeus"  on  the  subject  of  this  union,  for  he 
presents  the  British  view : 

Only  a  few  weeks  had  elapsed  since  they  arrived,  rust- 
streaked  and  travel-stained,  as  ships  might  well  be  that  had 
battled  through  one  winter  gale  after  another  from  Chesa- 
peake Bay  to  Ultima  Thule  and  at  the  sight  of  them  the 
gray,  war-weary  Battle  Fleet  of  Britain  burst  into  a  roar 
of  welcome  such  as  had  never  before  greeted  a  stranger 
within  its  gates  in  either  peace  or  war.  For — and  herein 
lies  the  magic  of  the  thing — they  were  not  merely  allies 
swinging  up  on  to  the  flank  of  a  common  battle-line,  but  kins- 
men joining  kinsmen  as  an  integral  part  of  one  fleet.  The 
rattle  of  their  cables  through  the  hawse  pipes  was  drowned 
by  the  tumult  of  cheering,  and  forthwith  the  American  ad- 
miral dispatched  a  telegram  to  Washington,  whose  laconic 
business-like  brevity  alone  did  justice  to  what  may  prove 
one  of  the  most  significant  messages  of  history:  "Arrived  as 
per  schedule,"  it  said. 


CHAPTER   II 

AT  HOME  WITH  ADMIRAL  BEATTY 

(a  letter  to  the  author's  father) 

To  tread  the  paths  of  death  he  stood  prepared. 
And  what  he  greatly  thought  he  nobly  dared, 

U.  S.  S.  New  York, 
Flagship  European  Waters, 

25th  May,  '18. 

SUPPOSING  that  on  one  of  our  talks  in  your 
office  a  little  more  than  a  year  ago  I  had 
said  something  of  this  sort:  "Well,  Dad, 
whatever  I  decide  won't  be  very  permanent.  A 
year  from  now  it  will  be  all  changed.  I  shall  be 
distant  half  the  globe,  commissioned  in  the  navy 
by  the  President  and  detailed  on  the  American 
flagship  with  the  Grand  Fleet.  Six  months  at  war, 
I  will  have  dodged  torpedoes  off  The  Naze  of  Nor- 
way; chased  the  flying  German  High  Seas  Fleet 
into  the  Kiel  Canal;  flown  over  the  battlefields  of 
France;  and  witnessed  air  raids  on  Boulogne  and 
London.  I  shall  have  met  the  flower  of  England's 
rule  in  visiting  many  castles  in  the  north;  have 
held  most  interesting  chats  with  such  men  as  Sir 
William  Robertson,  General  Montgomery,  Lord 

15 


16     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

Curzon,  Col.  the  Marquis  of  Linlithgow,  Sir  Percy 
Girouard,  and  a  score  of  lords  and  ladies  and  peers- 
to-be.  Further,  I  shall  count  among  my  friends 
(because  of  the  peculiar  interest  he  has  shown  me) 
the  greatest  of  them  all,  our  smashing  young  Com- 
mander-in-Chief, Grand  Admiral  Sir  David 
Beatty." 

What  would  you  have  said  to  that?  Sometimes 
I  like  to  think  that  Richard  Carvel  would  have 
been  no  more  fortunate,  had  his  fictitious  career 
been  staged  in  this  war  instead  of  Revolutionary 
times.  But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  What 
I  want  to  talk  about  is  the  personality  and  char- 
acter of  our  truly  great  commander,  as  he  has  im- 
pressed me.  Yes,  the  impression  is  very  deep.  The 
more  so  when  you  realize  that  in  his  position,  at 
this  critical  time  and  with  his  peerless  command, 
the  Grand  Fleet,  he  requires  but  a  single  engage- 
ment with  the  enemy's  main  forces  to  crown  him 
the  world's  second  Nelson;  to  send  Sir  David 
Beatty  crashing  down  the  ladder  of  time  in  com- 
pany with  such  names  as  Blake,  Drake,  Hawke, 
Nelson,  and  Jones. 

He  has  earned  well  his  command,  and  in  that 
characteristic  manner  that  has  placed  him  first  in 
the  hearts  of  thousands.  While  in  his  famous 
Lion  (she  is  lying  but  a  few  turns  away  as  I  write 
this)  he  brought  his  cruising  squadron  repeatedly 
within  sight  of  the  German  defenses,  four  hundred 
miles  from  his  own  base.     Three  times  he  has  en- 


Harris  &  Ewing 


Rear  Admiral  Hugh  Rodman 


Taken  shortly  after  he  assumed  command  of  the  American 
battleship  forces  in  the  war  zone 


Admiral  Sir  John  Jellicoe,  R.N.,  G.C.B.,  D.S.O. 

Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Grand  Fleet  in  the  Battle  of  Jutland  and  later 
made  First  Lord  of  the  British  Admiralty 


AT  HOME  WITH  ADMIRAL  BEATTY  17 

gaged  the  unwilling  enemy  on  his  own  terms  and 
taken  the  attendant  risks.  He  appeared  on  the 
scene  of  the  Heligoland  action  just  in  time  to  ad- 
minister the  coup  de  grace.  He  drove  the  reeling 
cruisers  from  the  Dogger  Bank,  sinking  BlUcher 
from  his  own  ship.  He  assumed  the  burden  of  the 
risk  at  Jutland,  and  by  magnij&cent  manoeuvres 
engaged  the  entire  German  fleet  with  his  one  squad- 
ron, clinging  to  them  as  long  as  his  teeth  would 
hold,  in  order  to  entangle  and  detain  them  until 
the  Grand  Fleet  might  come  up  to  victory.  Sir 
David  Beatty  leads  because  he  is  a  fighter — and 
all  Britain  knows  him  as  a  fighter. 

I  am  surprised  to  learn  that  the  admiral  is  as 
great  a  tennis  enthusiast  as  you  were  at  his  age. 
He  is  just  turned  forty-six.  Despite  his  pressing 
cares  he  makes  regular  allowance  for  exercise,  and 
as  he  explained  to  me,  always  chooses  tennis  "be- 
cause it  is  exercise  in  a  concentrated  form,  and 
you  don't  waste  valuable  hours  chasing  a  miser- 
able, helpless  ball  over  the  hills."  That  remark 
will  particularly  appeal  to  you.  He  was  very  em- 
phatic in  pointing  out  that  golf  is  not  to  his  fancy. 
Somehow,  through  the  unaccountable  course  of 
rumours,  it  reached  his  ears  that  an  officer  in  the 
American  Squadron  played  tennis.  Accordingly, 
in  compliance  with  a  note  received  by  our  flag 
secretary,  the  admiral's  barge  called  at  the  New 
York  on  a  certain  afternoon  (the  first  of  May)  to 
carry  me  to  the  Admiralty  House  at  Aberdour. 


18    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

To  my  surprise,  we  headed  for  the  Queen  Elizabeth^ 
Beatty's  flagship.  Coming  alongside  I  started  to 
disembark,  but  on  motion  from  the  officer  of  the 
deck  I  retreated  again  to  the  blue  plush  cushions 
and  carpets  of  the  inner  cabin.  I  could  see  every 
man  on  the  flagship's  quarterdeck  come  sharply 
to  attention  as  the  boatswain's  shrill  whistle  piped 
from  above.  A  moment  later  I  found  myself  in  the 
presence  of  Sir  David  Beatty. 

The  admiral  had  come  away  alone.  The  gold 
braid  that  flashed  before  me  as  he  entered  might 
have  felled  an  ox! — far  sooner  me,  had  not  his 
magnetic  personality  put  me  immediately  at  ease. 
He  had  my  name,  and  used  it  as  he  offered  his  hand. 
If  I  had  been  a  cartoonist  I  should  have  been  dis- 
appointed, for  he  lost  his  identity  a  moment  later 
by  removing  his  cap,  always  characteristically 
drawn  down  on  his  right  eye.  As  we  streaked 
through  the  water  our  conversation  progressed 
rapidly.  From  tennis  and  the  war  he  struck  the 
internal  organization  of  our  ships,  and  I  think  he 
was  making  the  most  of  his  time  for  he  was  hearing 
things  not  likely  to  come  to  his  ears  from  any  other 
accessible  source.  He  seemed  inclined  to  lead  me 
on,  venturing  two  or  three  items  most  interestingly 
confidential,  which  I  now  interpret  as  sort  of  as- 
surances on  his  part.  To  the  answer  of  each  of  his 
questions  he  listened  most  intently.  I  doubt  not 
that  there  was  a  purpose  behind  each  of  them,  and 
I  replied  as  completely  as  possible.     In  the  attitude 


AT  HOME  WITH  ADMIRAL  BEATTY  19 

of  our  men  he  seemed  particularly  interested,  ask- 
ing in  detail  concerning  my  own  division.  As  we 
sped  down  the  mighty  line  of  ships  he  had  some 
casual  remark  (usually  humorous)  in  regard  to 
each  one,  which  off-hand  revealed  at  once  his  mar- 
vellous intimacy  with  this  vast  armada.  I  recol- 
lect gazing  at  him  for  moments  of  time,  watching 
the  steely  flash  of  his  eye  or  the  firm,  set  lines  of 
his  mouth  and  chin;  then  suddenly  realizing,  as  he 
bore  down  on  me  with  some  remark  or  other,  that 
there  was  an  impelling,  commanding  power  behind, 
to  which  I  felt  pride  in  responding. 

Silence  and  respect  followed  Sir  David  as  we 
mounted  the  gangway  of  the  King's  pontoon  and 
stepped  into  his  waiting  limousine.  We  were  off 
in  a  jiffy.  By  this  time,  let  me  admit,  I  began 
to  feel  a  bit  inflated  and  rather  like  a  royal  prodi- 
gal. But  the  admiral  gave  little  chance  for  reflec- 
tion. As  we  passed  along  the  waterfront  he  told 
me  the  story  of  the  great  dockyard  and  its  attend- 
ant "tin  city  of  the  war"  which,  mushroom-like, 
sprang  into  existence  almost  overnight.  And  he 
expressed  grave  doubts  as  to  the  future  of  it  all, 
holding  that  "what  little  money  may  be  left  after 
the  war  will  be  spent  about  as  freely  as  blood." 
We  then  took  to  talking  tennis,  on  which  ground  I 
felt  more  solid  in  spite  of  my  striving  to  conceal  it. 
Thus  we  arrived  at  Aberdour. 

Right  here  my  sense  of  humour  served  me,  for  I 
was  chuckling  inside  as  I  followed  Sir  David  into 


20    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

the  lounging  room,  to  the  guests.  The  Grand 
Admiral  toting  along  a  lowly  Ensign!  I  shall 
never  forget  the  expression  I  caught  as  Admiral 
Rodman  recognized  me.  He  had  lunched  that  day 
with  Lady  Beatty  and  a  party  of  guests  who  were 
still  gathered  about  the  fire.  I  think  he  knew  that 
I  was  expected,  but  hardly  that  I  should  come  with 
the  Great  One  himself.  I  was  presented  to  Lady 
Beatty  and  eventually  reached  around  the  circle  to 
Rodman.  He  passed  a  witty  remark  which  pleased 
me  and  sent  a  ripple  over  the  room,  and  the  agony 
was  over.  After  chatting  awhile  Commodore  Ben- 
tinck  arrived  with  Lieutenant  Cleather,  a  King's 
Messenger.  We  left  to  prepare  for  the  double 
which  had  been  planned.  Nothing  would  do  but 
that  Lady  Beatty  should  see  the  game.  She  is 
quite  as  keen  on  it  as  Sir  David. 

We  were  soon  ready  for  the  court.  (Peter,  aged 
eleven,  the  second  son,  had  escorted  me  to  change 
in  his  room.)  My  surprise,  as  we  started  to  play, 
was  well  founded,  for  considering  his  age  and  the 
life  my  partner  had  led  (I  was  paired  with  the  ad- 
miral) I  looked  for  little  real  tennis.  Few  games 
were  played,  however,  before  I  realized  that  it  was 
real  play  and  that  my  partner  was  doing  all  the 
scoring  for  us.  In  the  confusion  of  gold  lace  I  lost 
the  first  set  for  our  side.  Perhaps  it  was  well,  for 
if  all  had  gone  smoothly  I  should  have  missed  a  lot. 
Beatty  at  once  became  a  bulldog.  He  is  the  same 
fighter  on  the  court  as  on  the  sea,  and  the  serious- 


AT  HOME  WITH  ADMIRAL  BEATTY  21 

ness  of  his  *'do-or-die"  remarks  brought  me  up  all 
standing.  In  the  second  set  I  let  go  everything. 
We  won  it,  and  after  losing  the  next,  rather  nar- 
rowly captured  the  two  following.  I  have  seldom 
seen  a  man  more  pleased  over  a  tennis  game.  He 
cheered,  slapped  me  on  the  back,  guyed  our  op- 
ponents, and  thoroughly  enjoyed  it.  To  lose  doesn't 
enter  his  thoughts.  I  remember  him  saying  over 
and  over,  while  we  were  behind:  "Here!  We  can't 
let  it  stand  like  this;  it  will  never  become  us  to  be 
beaten."  ''No,  sir,"  I  would  agree,  "We're  not 
going  to  lose."  The  result  was  that  toward  the 
end  I  was  literally  knocking  the  cover  off  the  ball 
and  going  fairly  well.  But  the  study  of  the  ad- 
miral proved  quite  as  absorbing  as  the  game. 

After  tea  (you  know  the  English  always  have  tea 
during  their  afternoon  sport),  I  had  a  glimpse  of 
another  side.  In  talking  to  David,  Junior,  the 
thirteen-year-old  son  and  heir  of  the  admiral,  he 
told  me  of  the  stunts  he  is  doing  with  mechanical 
toys.  He  took  me  to  his  playroom  where  he  showed 
me  a  model  "sub"  that  really  dived;  a  miniature 
Tiger  whose  turrets  actually  train;  a  baby  "tank" 
quite  complete  in  detail;  perfect  little  steel  dock 
cranes  which  revolve  and  lift  weights  precisely  as  the 
big  ones.  The  lad  is  an  admiral  in  the  making.  He 
already  knows  as  much  of  the  Grand  Fleet  organiz- 
ation as  I  do,  and  speaks  several  languages.  We  had 
not  been  there  long  when  in  came  the  admiral,  quite 
tickled  to  death.   He  insisted  that  I  must  see  every- 


22    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

thing,  and,  indeed,  seemed  as  pleased  with  the  toys 
as  his  young  son.  I  don't  blame  him.  He  put  all 
sorts  of  questions  to  the  kid,  who  seldom  failed  in 
his  reply.  When  he  did,  the  admiral  became  very 
stern.  His  whole  attitude  was  a  sort  of  construc- 
tive devotion.  Neither  his  duties  nor  his  gold  lace 
have  made  him  any  the  less  chummy  with  the  boy. 

He  then  led  me  about  the  house,  to  show  me  his 
wonderful  pictures  and  trophies  of  the  war.  They 
are  of  unique  nature  and  value.  The  very  things 
that  have  been  given  him  from  time  to  time  are 
indicative  of  the  respect  he  commands.  Some  of 
his  paintings  of  sea  battles  are  marvellous.  Best 
of  all  is  the  esteem  in  which  he  holds  these  things, 
which  results  in  each  becoming  a  home  tie.  In 
fact,  the  home  life  at  Aberdour  is  charmingly  char- 
acteristic of  England's  best.  It  is  a  case  of  open 
hospitality  and  warm  hearth,  at  which  each  of  their 
many  guests  feels  quite  at  home.  In  creating  this 
atmosphere  Lady  Beatty  (who,  by  the  way,  is  an 
American)  has  a  share  equal  to  that  of  her  gallant 
husband. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  resumed  our  game. 
The  admiral  had  had  enough,  so  preferred  to  play 
with  the  kids.  Lady  Beatty  and  I  played  a  mixed 
double  against  Bentinck  and  Lady  Ma^r.  It  was 
quite  a  tussle.  In  England,  ladies'  tennis  is  de- 
veloped to  an  extent  never  dreamed  of  in  the 
States.  They  all  play,  and  play  remarkably  well. 
While  we  have  two  or  three  experts  better  than  any 


AT  HOME  WITH  ADMHIAL  BEATTY  23 

• 

one  in  the  world,  they  have  here  a  whole  flight  of 
first-class  players  against  whom  we  have  none  to 
match.  Either  Lady  Beatty  or  Lady  Marr  could 
win  over  any  but  perhaps  five  of  our  American 
ladies.  And  they  are  not  the  best  hereabouts  by 
any  means.  I  begin  to  realize  what  I  have  so  of- 
ten heard,  that  ladies'  tennis  has  been  sadly  ne- 
glected in  the  States. 

After  a  quick  change,  followed  by  adieus  and 
assurances  that  I  should  love  to  repeat  the  after- 
noon's pleasure,  we  were  spinning  again  toward 
the  dockyard.  The  admiral's  spirits  were  high 
after  his  exercise.  He  talked  much  of  American 
tennis  and  branched  later  into  the  American  fleet. 
At  the  pontoon  his  barge  awaited,  as  also  my 
steamer.  But  he  insisted  that  I  come  off  with  him 
and,  after  returning  to  the  Queen  Elizabeth^  sent  me 
on  to  the  New  York  in  his  barge. 

Alone  again,  I  reflected  that  I  had  had  a  really 
great  day.  On  board  the  ship  I  was  soon  convinced 
that  this  opinion  was  shared  by  many  others  as 
well.  From  the  captain  down  I  was  put  through 
such  a  grill  of  questions  that  I  began  to  feel  guilty 
of  some  pleasant  crime.  It  really  was  immense. 
Even  Captain  Hughes  seemed  greatly  tickled  over 
the  affair,  offering  many  remarks  on  which  I  still 
reflect.  He  showed  me,  indeed,  that  the  experi- 
ence had  been  as  valuable  as  it  had  been  unusual. 

Admiral  Sir  David  Beatty  is  as  gallant  an  officer 
as  ever  took  a  bridge.     I  tell  you  it  is  with  proud 


24     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODINIAN 

confidence  that  I  stand  ready  for  his  command, 
knowing  that  spirit  which  permeates  the  entire 
Grand  Fleet  of  Britain : 

"Here!     We  can't  let  things  stand  like  this. 

It  would  never  become  us  to  be  beaten!" 


CHAPTER   III 

NELSONS  OF  TO-DAY 

PERSONAL  GLIMPSES  OF  BEATTY  AND  JELLICOE — ^A  COM- 
PARISON OF  THE  TWO   GREAT  ADMIRALS — HOW    BEATTY 
PUT   TO    SEA   LIKE   DRAKE   OF    OLD 

Without  the  greats  the  small 
Make  the  tower  but  feeble  wall: 
And  happiest  ordered  were  that  state 
Where  small  are  companied  with  great. 
Where  strong  are  propped  by  weak. 

— Sophocles. 

OUR  little  adjective  "grand,"  so  simply  ex- 
pressive, is  far  more  often  flippantly  mis- 
used than  applied  with  thought.  We  tack 
it  carelessly  on  to  a  hotel,  a  theatre,  a  corporation, 
or  even  a  person,  to  arrive  conveniently  at  a  designa- 
tion which  will  imply  splendour  in  the  superlative. 
Occasionally,  when  it  is  fittingly  applied,  we  realize 
the  full  significance  which  it  is  intended  to  convey. 
The  Grand  Fleet!  To  that  unexampled  organiza- 
tion of  fighting  force,  the  greatest  unit  of  power 
ever  assembled  by  the  hand  of  man,  it  is  indeed 
fittingly  applied.  A  dominating  machine  of  living 
energy  backed  by  walls  of  steel — smiles  and  miles  in 
extent — which  has  cleared  the  seven  seas  of  German 
ships  and  German  shipping  and  kept  them  clear 

25 


26     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

through  four  long  years;  the  power  which  has  saved 
the  world — that  force  is  grand!  It  is  the  Grand 
Fleet.  One  must  see  it,  study  it,  be  of  it,  to  feel  it. 
To  feel  the  awe  of  it,  the  inspiration  of  it — and  to 
realize  the  intricacies  and  hugeness  of  its  command. 

In  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Grand  Fleet 
there  has  been  needed  not  only  the  highest  ability 
to  command,  and  knowledge  by  which  this  vast 
armada  might  best  be  handled,  but  also  the  power 
to  inspire  officers  and  men  of  every  rank  and  rating 
in  the  fleet  with  zeal,  efficiency,  and  devotion,  as 
well  as  untiring  vigilance  in  the  endless  waiting 
for  the  enemy.  He  must  hold  his  command  at  the 
point  of  instant  readiness  for  action  at  all  times. 

That  excellent  sea  officer.  Admiral  Sir  John 
Jellicoe,  the  Grand  Fleet's  commander  during  the 
first  part  of  the  war,  is  a  man  of  the  high  attain- 
ments required  for  his  office.  The  fleet,  his  organi- 
zation and  creation,  proclaims  his  ability.  In  the 
later  stages  of  the  war,  the  great  instrument  which 
he  had  shaped  fell  to  the  charge  of  Sir  David 
Beatty. 

Around  these  two  outstanding  figures  then, 
Beatty  and  Jellicoe,  all  discussion  of  the  naval 
aspects  of  the  great  war  revolves.  They  are  men 
of  utterly  different  types.  I  have  observed  each 
of  them  with  an  interest  bordering  on  study,  and 
have  heard  them  discussed  by  dozens  of  officers 
of  the  Grand  Fleet.  Beatty  primarily  is  a  fighter; 
Jellicoe,  a  student.     To  such  a  marked  degree  is 


NELSONS  OF  TO-DAY  27 

this  evident  that  in  contrasting  them  an  author- 
ity on  British  naval  affairs  has  said:  ''In  power 
of  intellect  and  in  knowledge  of  his  profession 
Jellicoe  is  a  dozen  planes  above  Beatty.  And  yet 
when  it  comes  to  fighting,  in  small  things  and  in 
great,  Beatty  has  an  instinct  for  the  right  stroke 
at  the  right  moment,  which  in  war  is  beyond  price." 
It  needed  no  war  to  make  Jellicoe  great.  He 
would  at  all  times  stand  out  among  his  contem- 
poraries. Beatty,  for  his  stage,  needed  a  war. 
-And  given  a  war,  with  the  chance  to  develop  and 
exhibit  his  genius  in  battle,  he  carried  the  world. 
His  chances  came  early  in  his  career  in  the  Sou- 
dan and  in  China.  Seizing  them,  he  rushed  so 
quickly  up  the  ladder  of  promotion  that  he  may 
have  outstripped  his  technical  education.  Jellicoe 
as  a  naval  strategist  and  tactician,  is  considered 
the  first  man  in  his  profession.  Beatty,  by  his 
actual  training,  is  neither  strategist  nor  tactician. 
How  could  he  be,  boiling  along,  a  commander  at 
27,  a  captain  at  ^9?  But  with  a  fighting  problem 
before  him,  the  open  sea,  and  the  guns  roaring,  he 
solves  it  by  instinctive  genius. 

The  great  Battle  of  Jutland  was  fought  for  the 
British,  for  the  world,  by  Beatty  and  Jellicoe. 
Each  played  his  part  with  consummate  skill. 
Beatty  had  the  stage  all  through,  while  Jellicoe 
merely  came  on  for  the  third  act.  Beatty  fought 
the  brilliant  battle  of  a  hero  with  such  amazingly 
bold  and  persistent  tenacity  that  his  vastly  sup- 


^8     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

erior  enemy  was  being  well  hammered  when  Jelli- 
coe  with  the  main  forces,  came  up  to  relieve  the 
strain.  Yet  Jellicoe's  part  was  infinitely  the 
more  difficult,  for  upon  him  depended  the  whole 
Issue  of  the  battle.  His  magnificent  deployment, 
without  visibility,  by  judgment  alone,  was  per- 
fect. It  is  blind  and  idle  to  withhold  praise  to  the 
skill  and  services  of  Lord  Jellicoe  at  Jutland  sim- 
ply because  his  prudence  and  the  God  of  the 
mists  robbed  him  of  complete  and  glorious  victory. 
What  Beatty  might  have  done  is  another  question, 
forever  unanswerable,  but  as  far  as  Jellicoe' s 
beautiful  tactics  were  permitted  to  go  by  the  failing 
light,  they  could  not  have  been  bettered. 

I  have  often  wondered,  in  reflecting  on  the 
relations  which  exist  between  these  great  com- 
manders and  the  officers  of  their  commands,  if  they 
may  not  have  accepted  the  code  of  John  Paul 
Jones,  the  founder  of  the  American  navy.  In  his 
famous  letter  to  Congress  in  September,  1775,  he 
expressed  the  code  of  a  great  leader.  Advising 
the  attitude  of  a  naval  officer  he  wrote : 

"In  his  intercourse  with  subordinates  he  should 
ever  maintain  the  attitude  of  the  commander,  but 
that  need  by  no  means  prevent  him  from  the 
amenities  of  cordiality  or  the  cultivation  of  good 
cheer  within  proper  limits.  Every  commanding 
officer  should  hold  with  his  subordinates  such  rela- 
tions as  will  make  them  constantly  anxious  to 
receive  invitation  to  sit  at  his  mess-table,  and  his 


NELSONS  OF  TO-DAY  2d 

bearing  toward  them  should  be  such  as  to  encour- 
age them  to  express  their  opinions  to  him  with 
freedom  and  to  ask  his  views  without  reserve." 

How  many  of  the  great  chiefs  of  the  Grand 
Fleet  have  actually  read  these  words  of  Jones  is 
for  conjecture.  But  that  they  believe  in,  that  they 
further,  and  that  they  actually  practise  this  code 
of  Jones,  I  will  testify.  Particularly  is  this  true 
■^  of  the  present  Commander-in-Chief,  who  im- 
presses his  young  officers  in  a  manner  only  pos- 
sible to  a  personality  so  dazzling  as  his  own.  It 
was  not  because  we  were  officers  of  a  visiting  navy 
that  so  many  of  us  were  fortunate  enough  to 
receive  courtesies  at  his  hands.  The  British 
officers  who  chose  to  seek  his  acquaintance  were 
none  the  less  fortunate.  It  was  because  we  were 
officers  of  his  command — his  subordinates — upon 
whose  backing,  in  masses,  he  knew  would  depend 
his  ultimate  success. 

Typically  English,  the  admiral  loves  his  home  for 
the  hours  of  quiet  diversion  it  affords  him  nearly 
every  afternoon.  And  his  exercise.  Scarcely  a 
fair  day  passes  while  the  fleet  is  in  port,  without 
the  admiral  having  had  at  least  a  short  turn  at 
tennis — his  favourite  "game.  On  the  fine  clay 
court  which  he  had  built  at  his  home  in  Aberdour, 
there  occurs  almost  daily  as  much  of  sport  and 
social  gathering  as  at  a  select  club.  Aberdour  is  a 
small  town  on  the  north  shore  of  the  Firth  of  Forth, 
opposite  the  most  seaward  of  the  moorings  of  the 


30     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

Grand  Fleet  and  about  fifteen  minutes  by  motor 
from  the  fleet's  main  landing.  The  admiral's 
home,  Aberdour  House,  is  situated  on  rather  high 
ground  which  overlooks  the  entrance  to  the  firth. 
Many  days  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  enjoy  myself 
there,  increasing  each  time  an  extraordinarily 
interesting  circle  of  acquaintance.  There  was 
scarcely  an  admiral  or  lady  of  the  Grand  Fleet 
who  would  not  appear  at  Aberdour  on  some  day  in 
a  fortnight.  Or  if  it  rained  the  scene  might  shift 
to  the  great  room  in  old  Aberdour  Castle,  close  by 
on  the  estate,  where  dancing  was  perfect.  The 
admiral  seldom  danced,  but  seemed  to  enjoy 
quite  as  much  as  any  one  the  huge  open  fire,  the 
girls,  and  the  music.  Indoors  or  out.  Sir  David 
was  the  leader  of  the  good  feeling  and  pleasure  of 
the  afternoon.  Force  and  vivacity  radiated  from 
him  in  the  form  of  wit  and  thoughtful  conversation. 
No  doubt  he  would  have  preferred  to  remain  at 
home  into  the  evening.  I  have  seen  him  part 
most  reluctantly  from  his  lovely  lady  to  rejoin  his 
"City  of  Steel."  But  there  is  a  war-time  order  in 
the  Grand  Fleet  that  all  hands  shall  be  aboardship 
at  seven  thirty  in  the  evening.  The  admiral, 
above  all,  is  a  member  of  the  Grand  Fleet.  He 
always  had  dinner  on  his  flagship  the  Queen 
Elizabeth,  and  there  remained. 

Often  the  conversation  would  drift  to  the  great 
question — the  question  which  held  the  destinies  of 
us  all:  '*Will  they  come  out.^"     And  to  the  last 


i 


NELSONS  OF  TO-DAY  31 

day,  still  hoping,  even  against  hope.  Admiral 
Beatty  had  always  the  same  reply:  '' Of  course  they 
will  come  out!  What  else  can  they  do?"  So  firm 
and  so  expressive  had  he  been  in  his  belief  through 
the  disheartening  years  of  vigil  that  he  kept  thou- 
sands of  his  officers  and  men  strung  taut  by  his  un- 
daunted spirit  which  seeped  down  and  permeated 
his  entire  command.  ''They  must  come  out," 
we  thought;  "Sir  David  has  told  us  they  will." 

Whether  he  sincerely  believed  in  an  impending 
battle  I  never  have  been  able  to  ascertain.  In 
either  case,  in  his  apparent  faith  he  chose  the  only 
course  for  maintaining  in  his  forces  that  tension 
which  is  so  essential  to  the  highest  efficiency.  After 
it  was  over,  on  the  great  November  twenty-first, 
he  most  cleverly  avoided  derision  by  exclaiming: 
"There  you  are!  I  always  told  you  they  would 
come  out!"  As  a  matter  of  fact  his  heroic  vaunt- 
ing (I  use  the  term  because  to  assume  their  coming 
was  to  boast  of  victory)  would  have  been  forgiven 
had  the  German  fleet  never  raised  an  anchor,  in 
surrender  or  war.  It  was  simply  an  evidence  of 
that  enthusiastic  temperament  characteristic  of  so 
many  great  naval  commanders — and  which  we  al- 
ways forgive,  overlook,  or  even  praise — because 
they  are  victors.  How  would  Nelson's  confident 
prediction  and  unqualified  boasts,  not  merely  of 
British  prowess,  but  of  his  own,  have  sounded  from 
the  pen  or  from  the  lips  of  any  but  an  habitual  vic- 
tor!   Hawke  is  forgiven  without  question  for  say- 


32     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

ing  to  his  pilot,  at  Quiberon:  "Damn  you,  sir,  you 
have  done  your  duty  in  warning  me  of  the  danger 
of  this  passage!  I  did  not  ask  your  tactical  ad- 
vice! I  asked  you  only  to  lay  me  alongside  the 
enemy — now  do  that,  and  keep  your  mouth  shut! 
I  am  not  emulous  of  the  fate  of  Byng "! !  And  from 
any  other  than  Sir  Francis  Drake  that  superb 
sailor's  customary  language  would  have  been  reck- 
oned that  of  an  inflated  braggart !  Our  own  Jones 
in  his  letter  to  Kersaint,  criticized  the  French  most 
sweepingly  in  their  tactics,  outlining  the  probable 
results  had  he  been  in  command.  He  is  easily  ex- 
cused by  the  long  string  of  victories  at  his  back. 

No,  this  policy  of  Beatty,  be  it  sincerity,  wisdom, 
or  boast,  will  never  be  questioned  by  the  future. 

Of  the  many  afternoons  I  enjoyed  at  Aberdour 
with  the  Commander-in-Chief  and  Lady  Beatty, 
one  in  particular  stands  out  above  the  rest.  It 
serves  well  to  illustrate  how  completely  did  the 
great  admiral  control  his  command.  Just  one 
link  was  false  in  a  chain  which  might  otherwise 
have  suspended  me  at  an  enviable  height.  That 
link  was  the  skulking  Hun.  Had  he  been  born  to 
fight  at  sea  I  might  have  been  twice  blessed  that 
day. 

Scarcely  had  I  arrived  at  Aberdour  when  I 
learned  that  some  unusual  report  had  come  in  from 
the  sea.  The  admiral  had  arrived  before  me  and 
continued  to  talk  on  his  open  wire  for  some  mo- 
ments.    The  fleet  at  once  dropped  from  four  to  two 


Photo  by  International  Film  Service 

Admiral  William  S.  Sims,  U.S.N. 

As  he  appeared  while  in  command  of  the  American  naval  forces  in  Europe 


The  Smile  that  Whipped  the  German  Navy 

Striking  snapshot  of  the  winning  personality  of  Admiral   Beatty  which 
welded  the  huge  Grand  Fleet  together 


NELSONS  OF  TO-DAY  33 

and  one  half  hours'  notice  for  steam,  and  shortly 
afterward  was  making  preparation  for  departure 
at  a  moment's  notice.  When  Sir  David  came  out 
to  the  tennis  court  he  suggested  that  I  need  not 
answer  the  recall  signal  from  my  ship  as  expected, 
but  return  with  him.  "I  don't  believe  they  intend 
to  shove  off  without  me,"  he  added.  We  started 
our  game,  but  over  the  wire  the  admiral  had 
thrown  the  scent  into  the  kennels;  already  the 
leaders  of  that  great  pack,  so  apparently  listless  a 
short  hour  before,  were  bristling  and  snarling  on 
the  new-found  trail.  With  a  pleasant  smile  Ad- 
miral Beatty  jerked  his  racket  toward  the  firth. 
From  the  court  which  overlooks  the  entrance  could 
be  seen  the  first  of  the  screening  groups  as  they 
slipped  quietly  to  sea.  division  followed  division, 
as  destroyers,  light  cruisers,  and  scouts  passed  on  to 
their  appointed  tasks.  The  Grand  Fleet  was  in 
motion.  In  motion  at  the  direction  of  its  great 
Commander-in-Chief,  who,  while  actually  com- 
manding his  fleet  by  wire,  was  also  my  partner  in 
a  game  of  tennis.  Messages  came  to  him  too  often 
for  his  liking,  as  far  as  the  game  was  concerned. 
Several  he  despatched  in  reply,  but  it  soon  became 
too  hot,  forcing  his  departure  for  a  sterner  game. 
We  snatched  a  brief  tea  before  leaving,  during  which 
one  of  the  ladies  was  heard  to  exclaim:  *'0h  my! 
How  terrible  if  you  should  fight  again!"  It  was 
a  sudden  draught  for  j  the  admiral's  smoldering 
thoughts!    I   caught   his   glance,   then:  "Whatl 


34     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

How,  pray,  do  you  expect  we  shall  finish  this  busi- 
ness?" Soon  we  left,  and  I  did  not  fancy  being  in 
a  position  of  opposition  to  whatever  "business" 
the  admiral  intended  to  "finish"  that  night. 
Through  all  the  ride  to  the  pier  not  a  word  did  he 
speak.  Nor  did  I.  When  at  last  the  road  opened 
out  a  vista  to  the  firth  we  could  see  that  the  great 
battle  cruisers,  already  swung  on  their  cables  and 
belching  great  volumes  of  black  smoke  to  the  skies, 
were  breaking  moor  to  fall  into  line.  The  fading 
glow  of  the  crimson  twilight  held  great  promise. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  I  could  reach  out  and  feel  the 
tension  of  it.  In  his  barge  the  admiral  became 
less  grimly  reticent.  Possibly  he  enjoyed  the  re- 
assurance of  his  home — ^the  sea.  He  left  me  with : 
"Tell  your  captain  I  detained  you;  you  will  have 
just  time  to  make  your  gangway  before  you  swing 
to  sea.  I'm  sending  you  along  in  my  barge.  Good 
luck."  Regarding  the  gangway  he  missed  his 
guess,  for  when  I  arrived  at  the  New  York,  after  a 
seemingly  unending  passage  down  the  firth,  our 
gangways  had  already  been  hoisted  aboard.  The 
monotonous  clinking  of  the  winches,  the  spray 
rising  from  the  hoses  in  the  hawse  pipes,  and  the 
rushing  here  and  there  of  groups  of  sailors  on  our 
decks,  assured  me,  as  I  mounted  a  Jacob's  ladder, 
of  our  impending  departure.  The  battle  cruisers 
passed  at  twelve  knots,  mountains  of  black  under 
the  dense  clouds  upheaved  from  their  very  bowels. 
No  light,  no  sound,  no  visible  movement  on  their 


NELSONS  OF  TO-DAY  S5 

vast  expanse  of  deck.  Down  under  the  Forth 
Bridge  came  the  First  Battle  Squadron  of  the  Grand 
Fleet;  others  came,  ship  after  ship  falling  each  to 
her  place  in  that  stupendous  line  of  avengers.  Then 
in  our  turn  we  slipped  to  sea;  and  our  ship,  like 
every  other  unit  in  the  great  line  into  which  she  was 
falling,  was  ready.     For  what.? 

I  lived  in  the  thrill  of  a  lifetime,  for  we  had  had 
no  further  news  of  what  we  might  expect.  Hardly 
daring,  I  let  my  hopes  climb.  But  the  joy  of  an- 
ticipating an  action  in  such  a  setting  was  all  too 
short-lived.  Again — once  again — ^we  were  robbed 
of  the  fruits  of  victory  which  lay  so  close  to  our 
grasp.  We  were  hardly  an  hour  beyond  the  outer 
nets,  into  the  black  night,  when  the  inevitable 
"Return  to  base"  buzzed  over  our  wireless  keys. 
Some  minor  destroyer  action  had  broadcasted  the 
alarm,  had  bristled  the  hair  of  her  mane,  and 
brought  the  great  mother  wolf  snarling  from  her 
lair.  But  when  destroyers  meet  destroyers  no 
further  help  is  needed.  The  day-dream  passed 
away.  Small  consolation  though  it  proved,  I 
knew  at  least  of  one  heart  more  dejected  than  my 
own,  for  I  had  seen  the  fire  in  Sir  David  Beatty's 
eyes. 

Lord  Jellicoe  it  was  my  honour  first  to  meet  on  a 
September  afternoon  at  Admiralty  House,  Rosyth, 
the  home  of  Admiral  Burney,  Commander-in-Chief 
of  the  Coast  of  Scotland.  So  entirely  is  he  unlike 
the  mental  picture  I  had   formed  that  I   could 


36     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

scarcely  believe  him  to  be  the  man.  To  this  effect 
his  civiKan  clothes  no  doubt  contributed  a  share. 
But  to  find,  in  place  of  the  tall,  thin,  austere  and 
aloof  man  I  had  pictured,  a  man  small  of  size  and 
jovial  as  well  as  cordial  in  the  extreme,  was  no  small 
shock.  In  the  presence  of  Lord  Jellicoe  one  at 
once  recognizes  the  highest  type  of  English  gentle- 
man— one  who  places  you  immediately  at  ease  by 
his  delightfully  frank  manner.  Keen  for  sport,  he 
always  prefers  to  be  out  and  doing — tennis  being 
most  usual  with  him.  One  day  I  stood  talking 
with  him  on  the  veranda  of  Admiralty  House 
which,  hanging  over  a  bluff,  overlooks  the  Grand 
Fleet  as  it  rides  majestically  to  its  moorings  in  the 
firth  below.  I  wondered  what  were  the  thoughts 
of  the  great  leader  as  he  swept  with  his  eye  his  for- 
mer command — ^his  own  organization — ^the  greatest 
unit  of  force  ever  assembled  and  controlled  by  the 
hand  of  man!  He  is  held  in  high  esteem  by  the 
officers  of  his  former  fleet,  many  of  whom  will  never 
reconcile  themselves  to  the  fact  that  he  was 
snatched  away  before  his  work  was  fairly  done. 
He  loves  the  fleet  andj'^apparently,  his  visits  to  it, 
accepting  with  enthusiasm  the  cordial  hospitality 
of  his  former  admirals.  It  is  unfortunate  that  we 
Americans  did  not  see  more  of  the  great  Jellicoe. 
Even  his  visits  to  our  flagship  were  of  necessity 
informal,  which  prevented  rendering  him  suitable 
honours.  Those  who  know  him  best  affirm  that 
only  by  continued  association  can  his  true  worth 


NELSONS  OF  TO-DAY  S7 

be  judged.  Which,  no  doubt,  is  true,  for  he  lacks 
that  impelling  force  of  personality,  that  vivacious 
dashing  character,  that  draws  even  a  stranger  at 
once  to  Beatty.  So,  in  justice,  an  adequate  esti- 
mate of  Jellicoe  must  be  left  to  one  who  has  served 
directly  under  his  command — ^has  studied  him 
through  a  long  period  of  time.  The  appraisal  of 
one  who  has  merely  met  him  in  a  social  way  and 
played  with  him  at  tennis  wpuld  be  of  doubtful 
value. 

Another  war  is  ended- — ^the  greatest  of  all  the 
world's  great  wars.  Ended  and  won.  We  look 
back,  now,  to  those  who  accomplished  it,  and  love 
them.  There  are  many  whom  we  know  well.  They 
will  not  soon  be  forgotten.  But  the  leaders — ^the 
leaders  of  the  forces  that  won  for  us — ^how  few  of 
them  are  really  known!  And  we  will  forget — ^be- 
cause we  do  not  know.  The  great  Nelson,  faced 
with  the  realization  of  this  same  inpending  tragedy, 
expressed  himself  by  applying  some  very  old  lines, 
most  fitting  in  the  present,  which  he  found  had 
been  used  at  the  end  of  some  former  war: 

Our  God  and  sailor  we  adore 

In  times  of  danger — not  before! 

The  danger  past,  both  are  alike  requited: 

God  is  forgotten,  and  the  sailor  slighted! 


CHAPTER   IV 

AMERICAN  ADMIRALS  AT  WAR 

HOW    ADMIRAL    RODMAN    AND    ADMIRAL    SIMS     COOPER- 
ATED    WITH     THE     BRITISH     GRAND     FLEET AMERICAN 

PERSONALITY  ON  THE  SEA. 

When  crew  and  captain  understand  each  other  to  the  core^ 
It  takes  a  gale  and  more  than  a  gale  to  put  their  ship  ashore. 
For  the  one  will  do  what  the  other  commands,  although  they  are 

chilled  to  the  bone, 
And  both  together  can  live  through  weather  that  neither  could 

face  alone. — Kipling. 

ON  A  certain  morning  in  September,  1917, 
the  Grand  Fleet  of  Great  Britain  rode 
gracefully  to  its  long  lines  of  moorings, 
sealed  safely  in  the  Firth  of  Forth.  It  was  resting 
at  its  southern  base.  A  casual  observer,  glancing 
from  the  shore,  would  have  remarked  no  unusual 
interest  in  the  languid  array  of  power.  But  as  the 
trained  eye  scanned  the  fleet  that  day  it  rested 
questioningly  upon  the  Grand  Fleet's  flagship. 
Queen  Elizabeth,  Floating  from  her  main  truck 
could  be  seen,  in  place  of  Admiral  Beatty's  white 
ensign  crossed  with  red,  a  deep  blue  one,  bearing 
four  white  stars.  It  was  the  flag  of  Admiral  Mayo, 
Commander-in-Chief  of  our  Atlantic  Fleet.  If 
some  lurking  German  spy  had  focussed  a  lens  upon 

38 


AMERICAN  ADMIRALS  AT  WAR  39 

that  flag,  he  would  probably  have  registered  It  as 
an  "unimportant  detail,"  for  at  that  time  German 
regard  for  the  American  navy  stood  none  too  high. 
Yet  the  vast  significance  which  may  be  attached 
to  this  "unimportant  detail"  can  scarcely  be 
measured.  Perhaps  it  marked,  figuratively,  the 
very  downfall  of  the  German  Empire.  It  an- 
nounced a  conference — a  conference  of  admirals 
in  which  momentous  questions  were  being  dis- 
cussed, perhaps  decided.  As  a  result,  less  than 
three  months  later,  on  December  7,  1917, 
Admiral  Rodman,  with  a  squadron  of  four  battle- 
ships under  his  flagship.  New  York,  anchored  at 
Scapa  Flow,  the  Grand  Fleet's  northern  base  in 
the  Orkney  Islands,  and  undertook  his  share  in 
the  North  Sea  vigil.  This  unit  of  power,  added 
to  that  already  overwhelming  sea  force,  proved 
to  be  not  all  the  Allied  cause  would  gain  from 
the  historic  union.  Admiral  Rodman,  when  called 
upon  a  year  later,  expressed  the  belief  of  a  great 
body  of  our  commanders  when  he  said:  "I  have 
sometimes  thought  that  the  close,  homogeneous, 
and  brotherly  cooperation  in  the  Grand  Fleet 
was  an  example  of  what  two  nations  could  do 
that  had  a  common  cause,  whose  hearts  were  in 
the  right  place,  in  their  work;  and  it  was  an  ex- 
ample and  possibly  the  incentive  which  first 
prompted  the  Allies  to  place  all  their  armies  under 
the  command  of  Marshal  Foch,  which  proved  the 
most  logical  way  in  which  to  win  the  war." 


40     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

The  shrewdest  judgment  was  needed  in  choosing 
the  man  to  command  the  representative  squadron, 
of  the  American  navy  in  its  career  with  the  Grand 
Fleet  in  time  of  war.  An  admiral  was  needed  who 
could  at  once  command  authoritatively  within  his 
own  division,  and  yet  be  gracefully  subordinate  to 
orders  from  his  British  commander-in-chief.  He 
must  not  only  be  a  master  of  naval  operations,  but 
he  must  be  a  social  diplomat,  prepared  to  dis- 
tinguish himself  in  drinking  tea  as  well  as  in  de- 
ploying ships.  He  must  by  appeal  or  command 
maintain  his  ships  and  men  at  a  point  of  efficiency 
and  utter  cleanliness  never  before  even  attempted 
on  shipboard.  For  his  command  was  to  be  the 
example,  in  matters  great  or  small,  by  which  the 
British  would,  for  generations,  judge  the  standard 
of  the  American  navy.  The  Navy  Department 
after  due  deliberation  wisely  selected  for  this  post 
Rear  Admiral  Hugh  Rodman,  who,  in  his  long 
year  of  trial,  bettered  even  the  high  hopes  of  the 
British  by  the  performances  and  dependability  of 
his  squadron;  who  actually  opened  the  eyes  of  the 
British  navy  by  presenting  to  them  a  revelation 
in  the  upkeep  of  ships  and  crews;  who  became  a 
favourite  of  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact 
either  officially  or  socially,  on  land  or  sea.  The 
Navy  Department  had  recognized  the  unusual 
combination  of  qualities  which  existed  in  the  man 
whom  it  chose  for  this  command. 

Little  known  by  the  general  public,  Admiral 


AMERICAN  ADMIRALS  AT  WAR  41 

Rodman's  executive  ability,  his  capacity,  was  well 
known  to  the  Navy  Department  from  the  record 
of  his  service  while  stationed  in  the  Panama  Canal 
Zone  with  Goethals.  As  a  result  of  his  work  there, 
he  received  not  only  high  commendation  from  the 
Department  but  some  very  flattering  offers  of 
managerial  positions  by  shipping  companies  in 
civilian  life.  But  his  love  of  the  service  never 
wavered.  He  had  established  himself,  not  by  any 
exhibition  of  brilliancy  or  by  snatching  unusual 
opportunities,  but  by  steadfast  ability.  He  had 
overcome  the  handicap  of  graduating  from  Anna- 
polis number  sixty-one  in  a  class  of  sixty-two.  He 
had  even  refused,  with  such  stubbornness,  to  be 
turned  back  a  class  that  his  superintendent,  Rear 
Admiral  Balch,  decided  he  was  worth  reexamining. 
But  what  he  failed  to  gain  from  books,  he  made  up 
for  by  studying  men.  For  his  was  the  unusual 
good  fortune  of  being  picked  as  aide  and  confiden- 
tial secretary  to  the  great  Mahan,  then  only  a  cap- 
tain; and  later  he  became  confidential  aide  to 
Captain  Perkins,  considered  one  of  the  highest 
type  of  commanders  the  navy  has  ever  had.  It 
is  said  that  Rodman  had  much  to  do  with  the 
phraseology  of  Mahan's  first  book  on  sea  power. 
On  the  West  Coast,  Rodman  gained  his  first  ex- 
perience in  the  practical  handling  of  vessels — 
operating  with  tugs,  cruisers,  and  small  craft. 
It  was  there  that  Admiral  Osterhaus,  reputed  an 
excellent  judge  of  men,  picked  Rodman  to  com- 


42     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

mand  his  flagship,  the  Connecticut.  Since  Rod- 
man never  had  handled  a  battleship,  the  incident 
was  made  the  subject  of  considerable  comment, 
and  Rodman  was  watched  very  sharply.  In  the 
face  of  this,  he  exhibited  superb  mastery  of  his 
ship,  and  such  cool  and  successful  boldness,  while 
in  a  "tight"  place,  that  he  gained  a  distinct  repu- 
tation throughout  the  fleet. 

To  describe  briefly  but  adequately  the  service 
which  Rodman's  detachment  accomplished  as  the 
Sixth  Battle  Squadron  of  the  Grand  Fleet  is  no 
easy  task.  But  the  trials  and  intricacies  of  its 
command  may  be  guessed  by  some  remarks  of  the 
admiral  himself,  which  I  noted  one  evening  as  he 
was  conversing  in  his  cabin  with  a  very  good 
friend.  The  admiral  was  asked  if  he  had  not 
experienced  unusual  difficulties  in  the  strange  con- 
ditions and  new  methods  encountered  "while 
outside."  To  this  he  replied  substantially  as 
follows:  "Occasionally,  yes,  occasionally!  You 
should  have  seen  the  nights  on  which  we  stood  out 
through  the  Pentland  Firth  last  winter.  That  is, 
you  should  have  been  there — ^but  not  you,  nor 
any  one  else  could  have  seen  much.  Invariably 
we  would  stand  out  of  Scapa  Flow,  through  the 
Pentland  Firth,  in  the  black  of  night.  Through 
the  Pentland  Firth  which  with  its  skerries  and  tide- 
rips  is  considered  hazardous  even  in  broad  day- 
light, and  never  attempted  at  night  in  times  of 
peace!    Without  a  light  of  any  sort  and  scarcely 


AMERICAN  ADMIRALS  AT  WAR  43 

a  signal  passing  between  us;  without  a  sound  or 
quiver  of  wireless,  we  would  pass  to  sea,  perhaps 
a  hundred  strong,  by  sheer  instinct,  cold  figures,  and 
superb  cooperation,  so  smoothly  that  when  dawn 
revealed  the  sea  alive  with  craft  of  every  sort, 
stretched  off  in  all  directions,  we  marvelled  and  won- 
dered how  we  ever  had  avoided  one  another,  not  to 
mention  rocks,  shoals,  and  mines,  in  passing  out." 

On  his  bridge  an  admiral  is  a  subject  for  study. 
Particularly  so  is  Admiral  Rodman.  He  is  abso- 
lutely cool  and  seems  almost  unconcerned — as  long 
as  he  is  satisfied.  But  let  the  slightest  mistake 
occur,  then  "stand  from  under!"  He  is  never 
sparing  in  reproach  or  criticism.  Many  times  has 
he  run  a  reproof  in  bunting  up  to  the  yard-arms 
for  some  seemingly  trivial  breech  in  tactics  by 
another  ship,  which  must  have  seemed  harsh  to 
the  recipient.  For  the  most  part,  however,  his 
good  nature  has  the  upper  hand  and  easily  radi- 
ates from  wing  to  wing  of  the  bridge.  It  can  be 
felt  in  his  very  presence.  I  have  seen  him  in 
"tight"  positions,  while  everyone  is  more  or  less 
holding  his  breath,  give  orders  sharply,  briefly — 
then  nonchalantly  start  to  expound  some  absurdly 
irrelevant  story  to  another  officer  on  the  bridge. 
He  seems  entirely  confident  in  the  outcome  of  the 
execution  of  his  orders.  His  stories  by  the  way 
seem  to  come  from  unlimited  resources.  But  it  is 
useless  to  repeat  them.  The  admiral's  inimi- 
table style  is  what  gives  them  this  distinction. 


i 

I. 

V 


44     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

One  has  merely  to  Tcnow  Admiral  Rodman  cas- 
ually to  account  for/ his  personal  triumphs  with 
the  Grand  Fleet.  His  jovial,  wholehearted  smile 
"gets  across"  from  the  start.  And  with  English- 
men— the  most  outspoken  of  whom  we  should  con- 
sider reticent — ^his  blunt,  matter-of-fact,  and  to- 
the-point  manner  seemed  a  delightful  revelation. 
They  made  him  the^  honoured  subject  of  a  myriad 
of  entertainments,  lavishing  upon  him  the  whole- 
souled  enthusiasm  whicli  they  felt  for  America  in 
the  last  year  of  the  Great  War.  Never  have  I 
heard  an  adverse  criticism  of  Admiral  Rodman 
voiced  by  a  Britisher.  On  the  contrary,  scores 
of  warmly  appreciative  remarks  were  constantly 
flung  at  me  concerning  him,  both  ashore  and 
afloat — ^from  the  highest  in  command  down  to  the 
men  in  the  gun  rooms.  To  express  their  senti- 
ments in  a  way  that  he  might  never  forget,  the 
admirals  of  the  Grand  Fleet  united,  on  the  eve  of 
his  departure  from  their  comradeship,  in  present- 
ing Admiral  Rodman  with  a  huge  loving  cup, 
inscribed  with  their  personal  appreciation.  That 
this  unusual  cordiality  might  be  realized  by  a  por- 
tion of  the  people  for  whom  he  had  striven  to 
bring  it  about.  Admiral  Rodman  has  in  turn  pre- 
sented it  by  saying :  ''  When  I  add  that  I  sometimes 
commanded  a  force  with  British  admirals  under 
me,  sometimes  they  commanded  me,  and  that  no 
thought  of  jealousy,  no  thought  of  nationality,  no 
thought  of  any  misunderstanding  ever  arose,  you 


AMERICAN  ADMIRALS  AT  WAR  45 

^ill  understand  how  extremely  close  and  brotherly 
were  our  relations." 

Despite  his  strictness,  which  the  appearance  of 
his  ships  reflected,  the  admiral  was  very  generally 
popular  within  his  squadron.  Particularly  was 
this  true  aboard  his  flagship,  where  his  delightful 
democracy  could  better  be  felt  and  appreciated. 
For  instance,  I  remember  him  on  the  evening  be- 
fore our  departure  for  home.  I  had  invited  Vice- 
Admiral  Levison,  of  the  British  navy,  and  several 
others,  with  their  ladies,  to  whom  we  owed  so 
much  for  their  delightful  courtesy,  to  dine  in  the 
Junior  Ofl[icers'  Mess  on  the  New  York.  Of  course. 
Admiral  Rodman  was  enjoined  to  attend.  But 
he  did  more  than  merely  accept.  Through  all  the 
preparations  there  was  nothing  in  which  he  did  not 
offer  to  help.  During  the  dinner  and  throughout 
the  evening  he  was  at  his  best,  insuring,  from  the 
outset,  the  success  of  this  rather  sad  farewell 
party. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  admitted,  his 
inspections,  which  seemed  to  compete  with  the 
phases  of  the  moon  in  their  frequency,  were  about 
as  popular  as  the  "Flu."  Anticipation  would 
cause  evil  spirits  to  haunt  us  in  our  dreams,  while 
realization  never  failed  to  increase  the  none-too- 
gentle  vocabulary  of  the  Junior  OflScers'  Mess  by 
at  least  a  score  of  choice  expressions.  It  was  pre- 
cisely the  attitude  the  admiral  wished  to  create. 
If  any  one  doubts  that  he  obtained  the  results 


46     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

he  sought,  he  has  but  to  refer  his  skepticism  to  one 
of  our  British  visitors  to  be  for  all  times  convinced. 
With  his  headquarters  and  usual  whereabouts  in 
far-away  London,  Admiral  Sims,  the  Commander- 
in-Chief  of  our  naval  forces  operating  in  European 
waters,  presents  far  more  numerous  obstacles  of 
approachability  to  a  mere  battleship  man  than 
Admiral  Rodman.  But  notwithstanding  his  usual 
remoteness  from  the  battleship  force  itself  it  was 
quite  impossible  to  serve  in  it  for  any  considerable 
time  without  being  permeated  and  saturated  with 
what  may  best  be  termed  his  greatness.  Great- 
ness without  a  qualification,  for  I  have  heard 
it  stated  by  an  officer  high  in  the  United  States 
army,  that  from  many  circles  comes  the  opinion 
that  we  have  in  Admiral  Sims  the  greatest  com- 
mander, the  strongest  man,  of  either  service. 
Further,  this  opinion  is  earnestly  shared  to-day 
by  the  British  navy.  Through  the  most  trying 
year  and  a  half  of  its  history,  its  officers  have 
known  him  in  his  work,  and  by  his  work — ^work 
which  of  necessity  was  carried  on  so  much  in  the 
twilight,  that  few  Americans  have  yet  seen  its 
magnitude.  For  any  errors  committed  by  that 
part  of  our  navy  actually  engaged  in  the  Great 
War,  Admiral  Sims  is  responsible.  And  for  its 
services,  potential  or  kinetic.  Admiral  Sims  is  also 
responsible.  Admiral  Sims  was  the  Commander- 
in-Chief,  director  of  operations,  distributor  of 
forces,  court  of  appeals,  official  representative,  and 


AMERICAN  ADMIRALS  AT  WAR  47 

international  diplomatist  for  our  navy  at  war,  for 
our  battleships,  destroyers,  submarines,  mine  force, 
patrol  craft,  land  bases,  and  hospitals  alike.  And 
in  this  vast  service  he  was  held  from  start  to  finish 
in  unwavering  devotion  and  esteem.  He  Is  a  leader. 
There  is  no  flourish,  nothing  conspicuous  in  his 
greatness.  Quietly  he  wends  his  way.  But,  as 
one  of  his  aides  very  aptly  expressed  it:  "He 
saws  wood."  Afterward,  the  pile  he  had  cut  was 
placed  on  exhibition  by  his  contemporary,  Admiral 
Rodman,  who  said:  "There  can  be  no  question 
that  our  destroyer  force  did  valiant  service  against 
the  Hun  submarine;  that  our  heavy  artillery  force 
manned  by  naval  gunners  with  14-inch  guns 
mounted  on  railway  carriages,  each  throwing  a 
a  shell  that  weighed  1,400  pounds,  and  which  oper- 
ated with  the  army  at  the  front,  made  its  presence 
a  dread  to  Hun  strongholds  which  could  not  other- 
wise have  been  reached  by  gunfire;  that  our  mine 
force,  by  laying  a  barrage  or  string  of  mines  from 
the  Norwegian  coast  to  the  Orkney  Islands  across 
the  North  Sea,  aided  materially  in  adding  to  the 
danger  of  any  Hun  submarine  or  surface  craft 
that  might  attempt  to  gain  the  open  sea.  We  have 
every  reason  to  be  proud  of  and  no  reason  to  regret, 
the  part  which  our  navy  played  In  Its  work  during 
this  war,  and,  taking  a  retrospective  view,  had  we 
to  do  it  again  we  would  not  change  one  iota,  which 
is  the  strongest  proof  that  the  work  has  been  well 
done." 


48     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

I  first  encountered  Admiral  Sims  through  a  most 
unique  circumstance,  one  which  only  a  sudden 
impulse  could  have  occasioned.  In  February, 
1918^  the  third  month  of  her  service  in  the  war 
zone,  the  New  York  was  dry-docked  at  Newcastle- 
on-the-Tyne,  to  be  fitted  with  paravanes  and  other 
appliances.  Dry-dock  means  "leave,"  and  this, 
to  me,  meant  France.  Two  of  us  set  out  with  the 
resolve,  despite  much  derision,  that  France,  our 
goal,  must  be  reached.  Arriving  in  London  at 
seven  in  the  evening,  our  project  met  with  little 
encouragement.  At  headquarters,  we  were  told 
that  such  visits  had  been  stopped,  but  that  we 

might  get  the  advice  of  Commander .     This 

we  obtained,  which  was  that  all  visits  to  the  front 
had  been  curtailed  by  order  of  the  admiral,  but 

that  Paymaster might  issue  passports  to  some 

parts  of  France  not  adjacent  to  the  front.  After 
much  searching,  we  found  the  paymaster,  who 
blasted  our  hopes  by  simply  stating  that  the  words 
"Sims,  oflacial"  must  endorse  such  passports.     He 

suggested  that  we  see  Captain ,  the  admiral's 

aide.  The  captain  was  out.  Having,  by  this  time, 
nearly  worn  out  the  tires  of  our  taxi  and  noting 
the  advancing  hour,  we  decided  to  play  our  trump 
card.  Admiral  Sims  was  at  home  in  his  apart- 
ment at  the  Carlton.  To  a  request  by  phone,  he 
sent  down  the  reply  that  naval  officers  were  no 
longer  allowed  to  visit  the  fronts  in  France.  We 
had  one  more  shaft  to  loose.    To  a  brief,  but  pain- 


AMERICAN  ADMIRALS  AT  WAR  49 

fully  careful  note  he  replied:     "Send  the  young 
man  up." 

The  admiral  was  alone.  Tall,  thin,  impressive, 
he  welcomed  us  with  cordial  dignity.  A  handshake 
and  "Be  seated.  Now,  what  can  I  do  for  you.^^" 
left  us  entirely  at  ease.  When  we  had  stated  our 
desires,  he  did  not  reply,  but  instead  turned  the 
subject  to  our  ships,  the  work  of  the  squadron,  and 
conditions  generally  in  our  rather  new  department 
of  his  command.  Instead  of  the  relations  being 
strained  by  the  unconventionality  of  such  a  visit, 
we  found  ourselves  more  and  more  at  ease  as  the 
impelling  magnetism  and  aggressiveness  of  Ad- 
miral Sims  became  evident.  The  three  stars  on  his 
collar  made  him  none  the  less  the  man;  and  to  the 
man,  not  the  intangible  admiral,  we  were  speaking 
on  this  occasion.  Finally  he  arose  and  said: 
"Well,  you  have  come  a  long  way,  and  have  your 
hearts  set  on  France.  I  don't  like  to  disappoint 
you  'kids.'  Stop  at  headquarters  to-morrow  morn- 
ing at  ten  o'clock  and  I'll  give  you  a  letter  authoriz- 
ing you  to  visit  France,  providing  you  do  not  visit 
an  actual  battle  front,  and  providing  you  return 
before  your  leave  expires."  He  expalined  that  the 
reason  he  had  ceased  to  allow  any  one,  even  his 
captains,  to  visit  the  battle  front  was  that  many 
had  done  so,  and  in  each  case  an  officer  of  the 
British  army  had  been  courteously  detailed  to 
take  charge  and  show  the  visitor  anything  of 
interest  in  that  sector.     "Which  is  all  very  well," 


50    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

he  added,  *'but  at  present,  every  oflScer  of  the 
British  army  is  needed  for  bigger  things  than 
taking  us  sightseeing."  The  admiral  had  seemed 
more  Hke  a  father  to  us  than  anything  I  could  think 
of;  one  could  scarcely  realize  that  this  lovable  man 
was  the  great  Sims.  At  ten  in  the  morning  we 
found  our  passports,  with  his  authorization,  at 
headquarters.  It  was  simply  a  typewritten  state- 
ment, signed,  on  official  paper.  Knowing  the 
strictness  of  inspectors,  I  questioned  whether  this 
would  be  honoured  to  pass  us.  The  commander 
whom  I  had  asked  smiled  and,  pointing  to  the 
Admiral's  signature,  said :  "  You  see  that.^  S-I-M-S 
will  pass  you  anywhere  in  Europe."  I  realized 
for  the  first  time  how  the  war  was  increasing  the 
prestige  of  America. 

Six  months  later,  in  August,  came  another  op- 
portunity. I  met  him  in  his  office  at  headquarters 
in  London.  This  time  it  was  at  his  request.  An- 
other lieutenant  and  I  had  been  sent  to  represent 
the  Grand  Fleet  in  the  Army  vs.  Navy  tennis 
matches  at  Queen's  Club,  London.  Admiral  Sims 
seemed  to  be  immensely  interested.  Expecting 
to  see  the  play,  he  talked  with  us  in  his  office  on  the 
morning  of  the  matches.  He  is  enthusiastic  for 
sports  of  all  kinds,  seldom  missing  a  game  played 
by  one  of  his  teams.  Apparently  satisfied  with  the 
details  of  the  matches.  Grand  Fleet  competition, 
our  chances,  and  similar  matters,  he  wished  us  suc- 
cess most  heartily  and  urgently.     Perhaps  he  real- 


AMERICAN  ADMIRALS  AT  WAR  51 

ized  what  this  would  mean  later  in  the  day,  when 
we  could  feel  that  he  was  behind  us  as  sincerely  as 
any  one  in  the  stand.  On  this  same  visit,  I  watched 
him  several  times  while  at  luncheon  in  the  Em- 
bassy with  his  staff.  Usually  he  finished  before 
the  others,  would  rise  at  once,  and  taking  the  flight 
of  steps  two  at  a  time,  start  briskly  down  the  street 
toward  his  headquarters.  Activity  marked  his 
every  move,  naturally  perhaps,  for  in  Sims  we  find 
a  true  American,  still  in  the  prime  of  life. 

Once  to  inspect  the  squadron,  again  when  King 
George  visited  us,  and  lastly  to  witness  the  sur- 
render of  the  German  ships.  Admiral  Sims  visited 
the  New  York  in  the  Grand  Fleet.  He  showed 
clearly  his  delight  in  the  condition  of  Rodman's 
command,  nor  could  there  have  been  a  more 
thorough  judge.  Each  time  when  the  sailors 
learned  that  Sims  was  to  come,  they  were  over- 
joyed and  seemed  to  take  particular  interest  in 
having  the  ships  in  the  very  pink  of  condition. 
Perhaps  this  was  because  a  number  of  our  chief 
petty  ofiicers  at  one  time  or  another  during  their 
careers  had  served  directly  under  Sims.  The 
verdict  of  such  men  is  perhaps,  after  all,  the  great- 
est test  of  a  good  commander.  They  loved  him. 
Not  because  he  had  been  "soft"  as  an  ofiicer,  but 
because  he  had  been  ''square."  They  all  shared 
the  opinion  that  he  had  known  more  about  their 
business  than  they  themselves,  and  that  he  had 
been   an   insatiable   worker.     They   had   worked 


52     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

willingly,  because  they  knew  him  to  be  a  worker. 
With  these  unvarying  opinions  drifting  from  our 
chief  petty  officers  to  the  men,  it  is  small  wonder 
that  their  heads  were  a  little  higher,  their  clothes 
a  little  cleaner  for  Admiral  Sims's  inspections  than 
for  any  others. 

Immediately  after  our  entrance  into  the  war,  it 
became  necessary  that  the  navy  be  established 
abroad.  Our  war  on  the  sea  must  go  to  the  enemy 
quite  as  decidedly  as  our  war  on  land,  for  the  enemy 
was  no  better  able  to  reach  us  in  one  way  than 
the  other,  except,  perhaps,  by  submarines.  Who, 
then,  should  command  ?  Without  any  inside  know- 
ledge of  the  subject  I  will  hazard  a  guess  that 
there  was  no  prolonged  discussion  on  the  matter. 
The  main  work  would  be  with  destroyers.  The 
times  found  Admiral  Sims,  that  live  wire  of  the 
navy,  in  command  of  our  destroyer  fleet.  He  was 
the  same  Sims,  who,  during  the  Spanish-American 
War,  had  been  our  naval  attache  in  England.  In 
that  crisis  he  proved  invaluable  as  a  source  of  in- 
formation for  the  Government  on  naval  matters, 
and  soon  came  to  be  entrusted  with  vast  responsi- 
bilities. He  bought,  equipped,  and  cargoed  ships 
for  us,  despatching  them  with  speed  that  amazed 
the  Department.  To  Sims,  in  large  part,  we  owe 
the  preparation  of  our  fleet  for  the  actions  of  that 
war.  Later,  when  his  realization  of  the  pitiful 
inefficiency  of  our  naval  gunnery  prompted  him 
to  expose  the  matter,  he  was  brought  by  the  very 


AMERICAN  ADMIRALS  AT  WAR  53 

audacity  of  his  aggression  to  the  attention  of 
Theodore  Roosevelt.  Another  president  might 
have  court-martialed  him.  Roosevelt,  realizing  the 
truth  of  Sims's  assertions,  and  accepting  the  pos- 
sibilities of  his  recommendations,  placed  him  in  the 
position  which  enabled  him  to  revolutionize  the 
gunnery,  not  only  of  the  navy,  but  of  the  army  as 
well.  No  other  man  before  or  since  has  approached 
his  accomplishment  along  this  line.  As  a  result 
of  this  excellent  work  he  was  given  command  of 
the  battleship  Minnesota.  That  he  was  able  to 
succeed  in  such  a  command,  when  unusually  young, 
was  due  to  an  independence  of  thought  that  he  had 
maintained  from  the  early  days  of  his  career,  which, 
while  it  impaired  his  scholarship,  had  left  him  par- 
ticularly well  trained  in  the  subjects  which  he  chose 
specially  to  pursue.  A  little  later  in  his  career 
(1910)  came  that  famous  speech  in  London,  in 
which  he  predicted  the  Great  War  and  told  how  we 
would  be  drawn  into  it.  For  this  he  received  a 
reprimand.  But  when  that  war  came,  as  he  pre- 
dicted, the  reprimand  stood  for  little  against  his 
record.  The  navy  had  before  it  the  record  of  a 
human  dynamo,  the  dare-devil  who  had  risked  his 
career  ''for  the  good  of  the  service,"  and  who  had 
won.  Admiral  Sims  was  despatched,  at  once,  to 
organize,  advise,  and  command  the  naval  forces  of 
the  United  States  which  would  actively  engage  in 
the  World  War.  What  he  asked  for  was  given 
him;  what  he  advised  was  executed;  what  he  com- 


54     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

manded  succeeded.  One  year  after  Admiral  Sims 
had  reached  England  with  his  embryonic  unit  of 
destroyers  and  patrols,  thousands  of  weather- 
beaten  jackies  on  shore  leave  while  scores  of  sea- 
scarred  vessels  took  on  new  life  in  fuel  and  stores, 
could  be  heard  through  the  seaport  towns,  whist- 
ling, singing,  or  playing  the  tune  of  which  they  were 
so  proud,  "Admiral  Sims's  Flotilla  Is  the  Terror 
of  the  Sea." 


CHAPTER  V 

KINGS,  QUEENS,  AND  AMERICAN  JACKS 

formalities  and  honours    aboard    the    flagship 
"new  York"  in  the  grand  fleet — visits  and  trib- 
utes OF  Europe's  royalty 

Those  opposed  eyes. 
Which,  like  the  meteors  of  a  troubled  heaven. 
All  of  one  nature,  of  one  substance  bred. 
Did  lately  meet  in  the  intestine  shock. 
And  furious  close  of  civil  butchery. 
Shall  now,  in  mutual  well-beseeming  ranks, 
March  all  one  way  and  be  no  more  opposed 
Against  acquaintance,  kindred  and  allies. 

— ^Henry  IV. 

DURING  the  midsummer  months  of  1918  the 
centre  of  interest  for  the  junior  officers  of 
the  New  York  was  the  sheet  of  wireless  press 
news  that  appeared  every  morning  in  the  mess  hall. 
Each  officer,  as  he  appeared,  launched  his  questions 
and  joined  the  group  about  the  bulletin  board  be- 
fore touching  his  breakfast,  and  his  spirits  for  the 
day  were  almost  invariably  determined  by  the 
contents  of  that  slip  of  paper.  A  sharp  gain  or 
loss  by  the  Allied  armies,  or  more  particularly  by 
the  American  army,  was  as  clearly  revealed  by  the 
attitude  of  the  members  of  our  mess  as  it  was  by 
the  red  and  blue  crayon  on  the  big  map  we  had 

55 


5Q     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

hung  on  the  bulkhead.  In  fact,  as  a  result  of  an 
unusually  quiet  month  "outside,"  our  interest  had 
come  to  rest  in  the  armies.  Except  to  change  our 
base  or  to  execute  our  planned  manoeuvres  each 
week  we  had  scarcely  raised  the  anchors.  We  now 
discussed  the  German  High  Seas  Fleet  with  a 
sneer,  substituting  "if"  for  "when,"  and  looked 
with  misgivings  at  our  chance  to  end  the  war  at 
sea. 

Apparently  we  were  idle;  but  the  eyes  of  the 
world  were  of  necessity  blinded.  In  the  American 
Battle  Squadron  on  those  summer  days,  history  was 
being  made  and  international  relations  were  being 
established  which  will  endure  for  generations.  Nor 
were  these  "idle"  months  a  bed  of  roses,  relief 
though  they  seemed  from  the  North  Sea  winter 
gales.  To  the  crews  of  the  squadron,  particularly 
to  the  men  of  the  New  York,  it  was  the  most  irk- 
some time  of  all.  Visitors!  Guests!  Inspect- 
tions!  How  they  did  hate  those  terms!  Small 
wonder,  for  sometimes  parties  of  official  visitors 
would  come  aboard  day  after  day,  each  instance 
meaning  work  far  out  of  hours  to  have  the  ship  in 
spotless,  glistening  condition  for  each  new  visitor. 
With  apologies  to  Jutland  it  might  have  been 
termed  "the  battle  of  the  mists,"  this  fight,  trying 
the  endurance  of  patience  rather  than  nerve  and 
skill.  "American  sailors  have  fought  and  con- 
quered the  mists  of  Scotland,"  was  the  unanimous 
verdict  of  those  who  witnessed  the  incomparable 


KINGS,  QUEENS,  AND  AMERICAN  JACKS     57 

appearance  of  our  ships  on  those  inspection  days. 
I  say  "incomparable"  because  it  is  the  tribute  of 
admirals,  of  peers,  and  of  kings.  Such,  indeed, 
were  our  visitors,  through  whom  the  ties  of  nations 
were  being  mightily  strengthened.  And  the  men 
of  the  New  York  were  rewarded  for  their  added 
labours  by  contact  with  the  world's  great  leaders 
in  the  world's  most  desperate  crisis. 

When  the  American  squadron  joined  the  Brit- 
ish Grand  Fleet  in  the  Orkney  Islands,  it  was  en- 
shrouded by  a  veil  of  uncertainty,  a  shadow  of 
doubt,  which,  while  never  voiced,  could  none  the 
less  be  felt.  After  a  month  of  cooperation  the 
doubt  seemed  for  all  time  dispelled.  We  had  reg- 
istered for  the  first  time  a  successful  union  of  for- 
eign ships  with  the  Grand  Fleet — and  had  done 
so  at  a  time  of  grave  stress.  To  reach  us  while 
in  the  north  had  been  impossible;  but  our  arrival 
south  brought  visitors  to  acclaim  that  union  of 
which  Americans  may  long  be  proud. 

First  of  all  we  had  an  official  visit  from  Vice 
Admiral  Arthur  C.  Leveson,  that  greatly  beloved 
"live  wire"  of  the  Grand  Fleet,  then  in  command 
of  the  Second  Battle-Cruiser  Squadron.  On  that 
occasion  a  foundation  was  laid  upon  which  there 
developed,  as  the  year  advanced,  the  warmest 
comradeship  between  his  ships  and  our  own,  for 
subsequently  our  sister  division,  the  Fifth  Battle 
Squadron,  was  given  to  Admiral  Leveson.  The 
impression  Admiral  Leveson  carried  away  from 


58     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

this  first  visit  to  us  is  expressed  in  the  closing  para- 
graph of  a  letter  written  to  Captain  Hughes  of  the 
New  York  on  the  day  following  his  visit: 

May  I  express  to  you  my  immense  admiration  for  the 
condition  of  your  ship?  I  have  never  seen  anything  to 
touch  her  during  thirty-five  years  at  sea.    She  is  a  picture. 

Similar  expressions  of  admiration  were  voiced 
by  Admirals  Goodenough,  De  Robeck,  and  Evan- 
Thomas  on  the  occasion  of  their  visits  to  us,  and 
the  circulation  of  these  remarks  established 
throughout  the  fleet  a  reputation  difficult  indeed 
to  maintain. 

Next,  on  the  fifth  of  June,  we  realized  a  proud 
anticipation.  When  that  day  came,  sparkling  blue, 
our  force  commander,  Admiral  Sims,  stepped  over 
the  gangway  to  inspect  the  cleanest,  brightest, 
trimmest  ship  he  had  ever  seen.  To  a  navy  man, 
particularly  one  who  has  been  associated  with  Sims, 
that  statement  sounds  sweeping,  but  we  have  the 
Admiral's  word  for  it.  In  the  talk  which  he  made 
on  the  fo'castle  after  his  inspection.  Admiral  Sims 
declared  that  in  the  face  of  the  results  of  the  super- 
efforts  of  Admiral  Rodman  and  Captain  Hughes 
he  must  relinquish  his  claim  to  distinction  for  the 
maintenance  of  ships.  From  that  speech  some 
fifteen  hundred  officers  and  men  carried  broad 
smiles  above  inflated  chests. 

It  had  been  intended  also  to  fire  "five-inch" 
target  practice  for  the  Admiral,  but  a  fog,  rolling  in 


KINGS,  QUEENS,  AND  AMERICAN  JACKS     59 

from  the  sea,  so  reduced  the  visibihty  that  we  had 
to  be  contented  with  manoeuvres.  He  appeared 
highly  pleased  with  the  operations  of  the  squadron. 

Admiral  Sims's  visit  started  the  ball  rolling.  On 
the  seventh  of  June,  Admiral  Sir  Rosslyn  Wemyss, 
Deputy  First  Sea  Lord  of  Britain,  came  to  us  from 
the  Admiralty.  A  brilliant  forenoon  gave  the  ship 
her  finest  setting.  Admiral  Wemyss  made  very 
clear  his  pleasure  and  surprise  in  a  delightful  speech 
which  followed  his  inspection,  offering  a  rousing 
welcome  to  every  American  in  the  Grand  Fleet. 
What  pleased  us  most  was  his  extremely  optimistic 
view  of  the  international  situation  in  that  crucial 
time,  and  his  famous  fighting  spirit,  which  now 
stood  for  the  spirit  of  the  British  navy.  Optimism  is 
the  key  of  Sir  Rosslyn  Wemyss's  perseverance  and 
success.  Later,  upon  closer  acquaintance,  I  learned 
that  it  seldom  forsakes  him,  in  duty  or  pleasure. 

Five  days  after  Admiral  Wemyss's  visit  we  en- 
joyed another  distinct  privilege  in  the  first  visit  of 
our  Commander-in-chief,  Admiral  Sir  David 
Beatty.  On  this  occasion  the  Admiral  had  little 
to  say,  or  at  least  he  had  little  time  in  which  to  say  it. 
But  on  subsequent  occasions  he  gave  full  voice  to 
the  conditions  his  scrutinous  eyes  had  marked  as 
he  keenly  observed  our  men  and  ship  on  that  day. 
His  eyes  sparkled  as  they  darted  here  and  there, 
and  I  noticed  his  pleasure  as  Admiral  Rodman  led 
him  with  proud  confidence  into  nook  or  corner  or 
hatchway — always  to  find  it  scrupulously  clean. 


60     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

Then  a  most  stimulating  message  came  from 
General  Pershing,  which  will  long  be  chronicled  as 
much  for  its  effect  as  for  its  character.  In  the 
Grand  Fleet  we  had  never  been  cut  off  from  the 
armies  in  France.  In  fact  there  had  existed  be- 
tween the  two  services  a  binding  coordination  of 
sympathy  and  purpose.  The  Grand  Fleet  knew 
each  lunge,  each  parry  of  the  Allied  force  as  soon 
as  the  story  could  be  transmitted.  On  the  out- 
come of  these  we  built  our  fortune.  Early  in  April 
when  Haig  in  his  plight  ordered  "There  must  be 
no  retirement.  With  our  backs  to  the  wall,  each 
one  of  us  must  fight  on  to  the  end,"  he  received 
this  message  from  Beatty:  "The  Grand  Fleet  has 
been  following  with  great  admiration  and  sym- 
pathy the  magnificent  efforts  of  their  comrades  of 
the  British  army  in  France."  And  the  following 
reply  was  received  from  Sir  Douglas  Haig:  "All 
ranks  of  the  British  armies  in  France  send  their 
heartiest  thanks  to  their  comrades  in  the  Grand 
Fleet  for  their  most  encouraging  message."  But 
now,  in  the  early  summer,  the  American  armies 
were  in  France — ^fighting!  Our  brothers  were 
fighting!  We  knew  their  spirit  and  they  knew 
ours.  It  was  General  Pershing's  wish  to  come  to 
us.  Obviously  he  could  not,  but  he  chose  a  fitting 
representative  to  convey  his  purpose.  All  who 
heard  him  will  long  remember  the  visit  of  Bishop 
Brent,  senior  chaplain  of  our  Expeditionary  Forces 
in  France.     The  warm  hearted  and  inspiring  greet- 


KINGS,  QUEENS,  AND  AMERICAN  JACKS     61 

ings  he  bore  to  us  from  General  Pershing  aroused 
a  new  reahzation  of  our  unity  with  the  army.  Bish- 
op Brent  is  a  natural  orator.  Standing  there  on 
the  fo'castle,  thousands  of  bluejackets  massed  be- 
low him,  with  the  red  sunset  of  a  clear,  calm  even- 
ing for  his  setting,  he  inspired  us  by  his  magnifi- 
cent force,  filling  us  with  new  hope  and  proud  con- 
fidence as  he  delivered  this  message,  fresh  from 
General  Pershing: 

The  bond  which  joins  together  all  men  of  American  blood 
has  been  mightily  strengthened  by  the  rough  hand  of  war. 
Those  of  us  who  are  privileged  to  serve  in  the  army  and  navy 
are  to  one  another  as  brothers.  Spaces  of  land  and  sea  are 
nothing  when  a  common  purpose  binds.  We  are  so  depend- 
ent upon  one  another  that  the  honour,  the  fame,  and  the 
exploits  of  the  one  are  the  honour,  the  fame,  and  the  exploits 
of  the  other.  If  the  enemy  should  dare  to  leave  his  safe 
harbour  and  set  his  ships  in  battle  array,  no  cheers  would  be 
more  ringing  than  those  of  the  American  Expeditionary 
Forces  in  France.  We  have  unshaken  confidence  in  you  and 
are  assured  that  when  the  winning  blow  of  the  war  has  been 
struck,  and  together  we  stand  on  the  threshold  of  peace,  your 
record  will  be  worthy  of  your  traditions. 

The  American  squadron,  with  the  entire  Grand 
Fleet,  found  itself  unexpectedly  in  the  dreary  north 
to  celebrate  that  "greatest  of  liberty  days,"  the 
Fourth  of  July.  Then  quite  as  unexpectedly, 
we  had  to  hoist  our  immediate  recall  signals  for  all 
who  were  ashore,  up  anchor,  and  put  to  sea.  Man- 
oeuvring off  the  Jutland  Bank  we  were  out  until 
noon  of  July  eighth,  when  a  tired,  dirty  ship  and 


62     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

crew  dropped  anchor  in  the  Firth  of  Forth.  In  the 
midst  of  the  dirt  and  exhaustion  of  the  ordeal  of 
coahng  ship,  came  the  most  startHng  news  by  wire- 
less: **  To-morrow  the  King  and  Queen  of  the  Bel- 
gians will  visit  the  American  squadron,  boarding 
the  New  York  for  inspection." 

Then  those  American  bluejackets  showed  their 
stuff.  Tired  and  sea  worn,  they  worked  on  until 
midnight,  finished  their  job,  and  were  up  at  five 
A.M.  in  order  to  accomplish  the  impossible.  No 
wild  streak  of  imagination  could  picture  a  more 
vivid  change.  From  a  filthy,  sooty,  mass  of  grime 
at  eight  one  night,  there  was  evolved  at  two  p.m. 
next  day  a  scoured,  holystoned,  painted  ship, 
manned  by  a  spotless,  polished  crew  in  dress  blue 
suits,  each  at  his  post  of  inspection.  At  precisely 
two-thirty  Albert,  King  of  the  Belgians,  accompan- 
ied by  Queen  Elizabeth,  was  received  (little  know- 
ing) upon  a  spotless  quarterdeck  on  their  first  visit 
to  an  American  man  of  war.  Now  kings  and 
queens  must  tire  of  being  acclaimed  wherever  they 
go.  Bands,  guards,  cheers,  salutations  must  long 
have  ceased  to  thrill  them.  So  we  received  King 
Albert  and  his  queen  with  something  new.  Band, 
guard,  full  honours  rendered,  yes;  but  we  had 
something  more  for  the  sporting  king  and  queen 
who  had  flown  by  airplane  from  their  native 
land  and  had  come  to  far-off  Scotland  to  inspect 
us. 

A  black  cloud  drove  threatening  above  us,  paint- 


.KINGS,  QUEENS,  AND  AMERICAN  JACKS     63 

ing  the  sky  with  vivid  streaks  of  Hghtning.  Our 
kite  balloon,  not  yet  deflated  after  the  recent  trip 
to  sea,  floated  a  thousand  feet  above  our  stern. 
Lightning  and  hydrogen  gas!  We  had  no  fire- 
works with  which  to  welcome  Albert;  we  needed 
none.  As  their  majesties  neared  the  ship  a  vivid 
fork  streaked  downward,  and  with  a  flare  that 
could  be  seen  for  miles  our  kite  balloon  descended 
from  its  airy  berth  in  a  flaming  spiral  and  cast  its 
wreckage  on  the  firth  below. 

King  Albert  covered  the  ship  from  bridge  to 
firerooms.  And  nothing  daunted,  Queen  Elizabeth 
was  with  the  party  every  minute.  In  the  fire- 
rooms  King  Albert  grasped  a  shovel  given  him,  and 
promptly  stoked  one  of  the  roaring  fires.  Money 
could  not  remove  that  shovel  from  its  case  to-day, 
an  everlasting  trophy  of  the  war.  Six  feet  two 
inches  in  his  uniform,  broad  chested,  and  wearing 
a  smile,  the  Fighting  King  made  an  imposing  figure. 
He  dwarfed  all  those  about  him,  particularly  his 
tiny  queen.  Queen  Elizabeth  wore  white  en- 
tirely, but  followed  the  inspection  without  the 
slightest  regard  for  grease  or  smudge.  Their  Ma- 
jesties seemed  to  enjoy  the  visit  immensely.  We 
loved  them  too,  perhaps  because  they  are  delight- 
fully unlike  the  picture  we  had  formed  of  reigning 
monarchs.  By  those  who  were  aboard  our  ship 
that  summer  day  and  felt  that  royal  courtesy,  this 
tribute  of  the  Belgian  nation  has  been  placed 
among  our  highest  honours. 


64     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

The  following  morning  at  "quarters"  an  appre- 
ciation from  Admiral  Rodman  was  published  to  all 
divisions,  in  which  they  found  reward  for  their  re- 
markable performance: 

The  division  commander  wishes  to  express  to  the  Captain, 
officers,  and  men  of  the  New  York,  his  appreciation  of  the 
splendid  work  and  the  results  accomplished  in  thoroughly 
cleaning  and  painting  the  ship  after  coaling,  in  the  short 
time  and  under  the  trying  conditions  in  which  they  laboured 
in  getting  ready  for  the  visit  of  the  King  and  Queen  of  the 
Belgians.  Such  results  can  only  be  obtained  when  there  is 
the  proper  spirit  behind  it. 

Visitors  continued  to  come  to  us  as  the  days 
passed,  until  we  began  to  comprehend  the  senti- 
ments of  a  flower  which  had  bloomed,  by  chance, 
near  an  apiary.  A  prince  of  Denmark,  with  his 
delegation  and  our  ambassador,  chanced  upon  us 
at  a  most  appropriate  time,  just  as  a  squadron 
put  to  sea  to  shield  a  convoy  bound  for  his  own 
shores  and  Norway.  Prince  Yorihito  of  the  Higashi 
Fushimi  was  given  a  great  welcome  on  his  ofiicial 
visit  to  the  Grand  Fleet,  the  occasion  serving  to 
emphasize  the  alliance  and  demonstrate  the  spirit 
of  good  fellowship  and  cooperation  existing  be- 
tween the  Allied  and  Japanese  navies.  The  recep- 
tion accorded  the  Prince  by  the  fleet  was  not 
merely  a  ceremonial  compliment,  but  an  expression 
of  the  navy's  appreciation  of  the  assistance  Japan 
had  rendered  to  the  Allied  cause.  It  was  a  wel- 
come in  which  the  American  squadron  cordially 


The  Prophesy 

The  flag  of  Admiral  Mayo,  U.S.N. ,  floating  at  the  truck  of  the  Queen 
Elizabeth  on  the  occasion  of  his  visit  to  the  Grand  Fleet  in  September,  1917, 
which  arranged  the  union  of  the  British  and  American  navies. 


Typical  North  Sea  Conditions 
The  American  Battle  Squadron  plunging  along  on  its  ceaseless  vigil 


KINGS,  QUEENS,  AND  AMERICAN  JACKS     65 

participated.  Prince  Yorihito,  wearing  the  uni- 
form of  a  full  admiral,  was  accompanied  by  Prince 
Arthur  of  Connaught  and  a  suite  of  Japanese  and 
British  officers.  He  was  met  on  the  Queen  Eliza- 
beth by  Admiral  Beatty,  Admiral  Burney  and  Ad- 
miral Rodman,  with  the  Royal  Marines  mounting 
guard.  The  Prince  spent  a  busy  day  and  displayed 
the  greatest  interest  and  enthusiasm,  expressing 
frequently  his  appreciation  of  the  preparedness 
of  the  Grand  Fleet  for  all  eventualities.  In  the 
afternoon  he  paid  a  visit  to  us  in  the  American 
squadron.  To  receive  him  on  the  flagship  the 
crew  was  drawn  up  on  deck  in  full  salute  while  the 
band  played  the  Japanese  national  anthem.  A 
prolonged  inspection  followed,  after  which  the 
Prince  and  his  party  took  tea  with  Admiral  Rod- 
man. 

The  Naval  Advisory  Board  spent  two  days  with 
the  fleet,  realizing  for  the  first  time  the  magnitude 
and  perfection  of  the  forces.  Representative  P. 
H.  Kelly  of  Michigan,  one  of  the  best-posted  mem- 
bers of  the  Naval  Affairs  Committee,  quite  carried 
away  by  the  revelation,  returned  to  Washington 
shouting  the  praises  of  the  Grand  Fleet  thus: 

Great  Britain's  Grand  Fleet  is  the  most  astounding  exhibit 
of  force  that  two  eyes  ever  beheld.  When  we  viewed  that 
great  naval  force,  ready  to  dash  out  into  the  North  Sea  on  a 
moment's  notice,  there  were  three  rows  of  ships  riding  at 
anchor  and  each  row  was  eight  miles  long !  There  were  war- 
ships of  every  kind  and  description  from  battle  cruisers 


66     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

790  feet  in  length  to  small  submarines.     We  have  American 
ships  operating  as  a  part  of  that  wonderful  force. 

The  Shipping  Board,  or  part  of  it,  came  up  from 
London.  Pleasure  indeed  it  was  to  feel  the  con- 
fidence expressed  by  these  authorities  on  ships  as 
they  grasped  for  the  first  time  the  power  of  the 
Grand  Fleet.  Again,  it  was  gratifying  to  watch 
the  satisfaction  grow  on  the  face  of  Franklin  D. 
Roosevelt,  Assistant  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  as  he 
covered  the  ship  and  fleet.  We  had  received  from 
the  Duke  of  Atholl,  personal  representative  of  King 
George,  a  message  of  welcome  from  His  Majesty, 
and  we  felt,  indeed,  that  the  chain  of  our  honours 
lacked  but  one  link.  The  crew  would  often  joke 
of  it.  They  knew  it  would  mean  hard  work  but 
they  wanted  that  one  episode  to  crown  the  ever- 
growing heap  of  their  experiences.  Their  hopes 
were  realized. 

In  the  forenoon  of  the  twenty-second  of  July, 
1918,  it  was  my  lot  to  have  the  watch  on  deck. 
That  watch  was  perhaps  the  liveliest  that  could  be 
imagined  while  in  port.  Men  swarmed  the  decks 
with  every  sort  of  cleaning  implement.  The  ship's 
boats  plied  in  constant  use,  rushing  a  hundred 
"last  details."  For  this  was  preparation  to  re- 
ceive on  board,  at  two  p.m..  His  Majesty  King 
George  the  Fifth  of  England. 

Shortly  past  noon  the  majestic  little  despatch 
vessel.  Oak,  steamed  down  between  our  lines,  the 
royal   standard  of  England  at  her  truck.     The 


KINGS,  QUEENS,  AND  AMERICAN  JACKS     67 

Fourth  Battle  Squadron  stood  from  the  sea  in  close 
formation,  passing  the  Oak  midway  between  our 
Hues  and  rendering  full  salute.  The  crew  of  every 
ship  in  the  Grand  Fleet  had  manned  the  rails, 
fringing  the  deck  with  living  forms.  And  as  the 
little  royal  vessel  passed  each  mighty  dreadnaught, 
three  ringing  cheers  went  up,  and  then  "God  Save 
the  King."  Louder  and  louder  rang  the  cheers 
as  the  Oak  came  down  the  lines  to  where  we  lay; 
and  when  at  last  our  crew  let  loose,  its  volume 
seemed  to  split  the  skies.  At  last  the  King  had 
come! 

The  North  Sea  is  subject  to  sudden  changes. 
On  this  day,  clear  through  the  forenoon,  the  condi- 
tions of  the  visit  by  the  British  sovereign  to  the 
American  flagship  lent  themselves  to  a  sense  of 
mystery.  By  two  o'clock  a  dense  mist  had  des- 
cended about  us  like  a  pall.  Near  the  ship  were 
other  gray  shapes,  dimly  visible  through  the  haze. 
Beyond  these  were  more  distant  objects,  scarcely 
discernible.  Everything  else  was  swallowed  up 
in  the  mist.  Out  from  the  gray  surroundings 
over  a  drab  sea,  came  speeding  a  little  launch, 
with  shining  brass  funnel,  carrying  the  Sailor  King. 
With  him  was  the  admiral  in  command  of  the 
Grand  Fleet  who  had  accompanied  His  Majesty 
from  his  own  flagship  on  this  memorable  occasion. 
The  King  and  his  modest  entourage  climbed  the 
steps  leading  to  the  deck  of  our  great  flagship  and 
faced  the  Stars  and  Stripes  which  floated  smartly 


68     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  HODMAN 

in  the  breeze.  American  marines,  forming  the 
guard  of  honour,  gave  the  salute;  bugles  and  drums 
rang  out;  the  marine  band  followed  with  "'God 
Save  the  King."  Admiral  Rodman  and  Captain 
Hughes  of  the  flagship  received  the  King  and  the 
Commander-in-Chief  with  the  other  flag  oflScers, 
andat  once  the  reality  of  the  friendliness  that  un- 
derlay this  ceremonial  visit  was  evidenced. 

On  the  flagship  were  the  captains  and  senior  ofii- 
cers  from  the  other  vessels  of  the  American  squad- 
ron, as  well  as  fifty  men  from  each.  In  double 
line,  face  to  face,  the  complement  was  drawn 
around  the  entire  vessel.  Between  the  lines  the 
King  slowly  moved,  stopping  from  time  to  time 
as  his  eye  noted  some  distinguishing  mark  differing 
from  those  of  the  British  navy,  and  inquiring  its 
significance. 

The  deck  completed.  His  Majesty  went  on  with 
manifest  zeal  and  interest  to  make  a  tour  of  the 
ship  under  the  American  commander.  His  evi- 
dent interest  in  all  he  saw  was  appreciated  by  offi- 
cers and  men  alike. 

"He  is  by  training  a  naval  man,"  one  British 
officer  put  it,  "and  when  he  speaks  of  a  ship  he 
knows  what  he  is  talking  about." 

King  George  showed  special  interest  in  the 
laundry,  with  its  Chinese  attendants;  in  the  bak- 
ery, where  probably  the  finest  bread  in  Europe  was 
being  turned  out  (we  had  white  flour  direct  from 
the  States);  in  the  cold  storage  of  meats,  the  ex- 


KINGS,  QUEENS,  AND  AMERICAN  JACKS     69 

tensive  galley,  the  sick  bay,  and  the  modern  barber 
shops.  Above  all  he  admired  the  cleanliness  and 
sweetness  of  the  air  throughout  the  entire  ship, 
even  when  he  had  descended  to  the  lowest  deck. 

"In  the  American  navy,"  remarked  His  Majesty, 
"the  precept  of  cleanliness  being  next  to  godliness 
has  been  effectively  adopted." 

In  thoroughness,  his  examination  was  second  to 
none.  Not  to  be  outdone  by  Albert  of  Belgium, 
His  Majesty  descended  through  the  many  decks 
to  the  engine  room  and  from  it  to  the  firerooms. 
Again  one  of  the  shovels  was  laid  aside,  engraved 
and  encased.  It  will  be  for  ever  a  trophy  of  the 
flagship,  for  with  it  King  George  of  England  stoked 
an  American  fire.  How  different  the  Teutonic 
conception  of  the  prerogatives  of  princes ! 

In  the  excitement  and  thrill  of  contact  with 
England's  king  we  had  dwelt  little  upon  the  day's 
great  meaning.  Not  until  evening  did  we  realize 
its  full  significance.  King  George  had  inspected 
the  Grand  Fleet  of  the  English-speaking  peoples. 
In  that  simple  statement  of  fact  is  implied  a  revolu- 
tionary change  in  international  sentiment  and  re- 
lations, as  well  as  in  maritime  organization.  The 
London  Times  of  the  following  day  expressed  the 
situation  by  saying:  "The  King's  visit  to  the 
United  Navy  of  the  two  kindred  powers  who  have 
joined  force  to  secure  the  reign  of  justice  and  hu- 
manity among  the  nations  of  the  earth  may  be 
said,  indeed,  to  set  up  a  new  landmark  in  modern 


70     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

history."  Of  friendly  feeling  and  the  courtesies 
between  our  navies  there  had  never  been  any  lack, 
but  here  we  had  the  spectacle  of  a  combined  fleet 
ojffering  tribute  and  being  honoured  by  the  Sovereign 
of  England.  And  were  the  conditions  reversed,  the 
same  due  would  be  paid  our  President. 

From  his  training,  as  well  as  from  his  position, 
no  one  was  better  qualified  than  the  Sailor  King 
to  understand  and  appreciate  the  new  and  powerful 
bond  of  unity.  At  the  conclusion  of  his  memor- 
able visit  King  George  gave  the  following  message 
to  the  Commander-in-Chief: 

I  am  happy  to  have  found  myself  once  more  with  the 
Grand  Fleet,  and  this  pleasure  has  been  increased  by  the 
opportunity  I  have  had  of  seeing  the  splendid  ships  of  the 
United  States  in  line  with  our  own,  and  of  meeting  Admiral 
Rodman  together  with  the  officers  and  men  under  him. 
We  value  their  comradeship  and  are  proud  of  their  achieve- 
ments. 

Our  Commander-in-chief,  Admiral  Beatty,  ad- 
dressed the  King  in  reply : 

The  Grand  Fleet  is  deeply  grateful  for  your  Majesty's 
gracious  and  inspiring  message.  Your  presence  with  your 
fleet  has  stimulated  all  hands  in  the  great  task  upon  which 
we  are  engaged  and  has  afforded  us  another  opportunity  of 
giving  expression  to  our  unswerving  loyalty  and  devotion 
to  Your  Majesty's  person.  We  are  glad  that  Your  Majesty 
should  have  been  able  personally  to  observe  our  complete 
accord  with  the  United  States  squadron  and  the  firm  friend- 
ship which  binds  their  officers  and  men  to  your  own. 


KINGS,  QUEENS,  AND  AMERICAN  JACKS     71 

It  was  on  the  occasion  of  this  visit  of  the  King 
to  the  Grand  Fleet  that,  on  the  deck  of  Admiral 
Beatty's  flagship  Queen  Elizabeth,  he  bestowed  the 
K.  C.  B.  upon  Admiral  Rodman.  As  a  crowning 
tribute,  the  following  telegram  was  transmitted 
from  His  Majesty  the  King  to  President  Wilson: 

It  has  given  me  great  pleasure  to  have  visited  this  after- 
noon the  United  States  Ship  New  York  and  to  have  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Rear-Admiral  Rodman  and  the  captains  of 
the  battleship  force  now  operating  with  my  Grand  Fleet,  and 
I  also  had  the  opportunity  of  seeing  the  representatives  from 
other  ships  of  the  squadron. 

I  should  like  to  express  my  admiration  of  the  high  eflS- 
ciency  and  general  smartness  of  the  force. 

The  happy  relations  which  exist  between  the  United  States 
Squadron  and  their  British  comrades,  and  the  unity  of  pur- 
pose which  characterizes  their  work,  are  sure  guarantees  of 
the  continued  success  of  the  Allied  arms  at  sea. 

In  these  messages  we  realized  at  last  the  accom- 
plishment of  our  great  unity  of  purpose.  We  felt 
then,  as  we  felt  again  at  the  German  surrender  in 
the  presence  of  the  King,  that  the  great  union  of 
the  English-speaking  peoples  in  the  cause  of  right 
must  prevail,  now  and  forever.  For  the  sacred 
purpose  of  the  hour  the  naval  strength  of  Great 
Britain  and  the  United  States  had  been  more  than 
brought  into  alliance;  they  were  blended  into  a 
union,  the  remembrance  and  the  influence  of  which 
will  pass  down  to  the  last  generations. 


CHAPTER   VI 

OUT  OF  THE  WATER 

GROOMED  IN  A  FLOATING  DRY  DOCK  AND  EQUIPPED  WITH 

PARAVANES.        GLIMPSES     OF     FIGHTING     FRANCE     FROM 

LAND  AND  SKY  AND  SEA.       ENGLAND  AT  WAR 

France  gaily  bleeds  upon  her  torn  frontiers  and  counts  her 
waning  wealth  of  men  and  gold  with  still  unquailing  heart. 

Britain  in  vain  hurls  her  full  strength  into  the  West,  recruits 
increasing  levies  for  the  slaughter  heap, 

— Kaufman. 

FOR  eleven  consecutive  months,  with  the 
exception  of  four  nights,  the  officers  and 
men  of  the  Flagship  New  York  slept  aboard 
their  vessel.  Picture  then,  the  glorious  sense  of 
freedom,  the  relaxation,  the  adventure,  of  those 
four  nights !  On  the  seventeenth  of  February,  1918, 
something  happened  which  when  it  was  over,  we 
scarcely  realized:  It  was  announced  that  we 
were  going  to  dry  dock  at  Newcastle,  there  to  be 
given  leave.  We  were  going  to  England  and  could 
pretend,  for  a  few  days,  that  there  was  no  war. 
For  two  weeks  we  would  be  out  of  water,  the  crew 
to  have  leave  in  two  shifts.  The  ship  would  refit 
and  be  rigged  for  paravanes.  It  was  a  happy 
night,  that  night  of  the  seventeenth.     I  hardly 

1% 


OUT  OF  THE  WATER  73 

slept  at  all.  Mail  came  from  the  States  in  the  early 
evening  (we  received  it  in  lots  of  about  twenty 
bags  per  ship  each  ten  days  or  so),  which  made 
news  fly  and  spirits  rise  still  more.  At  eight  o'clock 
we  went  to  short  steaming  notice,  making  our 
early  departure  almost  certain.  The  mid-watch 
was  mine,  and  with  it  came  a  gale  of  wind  and  rain. 
Not  very  bright  for  our  prospective  trip. 

Dawn  showed  no  break,  but  more  than  a  gale 
was  needed  to  thwart  our  plans.  At  noon  the 
New  York  left  the  fleet  and  flag  behind,  rounded 
the  headlands  of  the  firth  and  plunged  into  North 
Sea  winter  weather.  The  gale  drove  dead  ahead. 
We  slowed  as  the  sea  increased,  to  give  some  chance 
to  the  destroyers  which  had  come  to  screen  us, 
but  even  this  proved  futile.  The  heavy  chop  slap- 
ped our  great  bows  till  we  trembled  even  under  ten 
knots  speed.  Sheets  of  white  spray  hid  the 
destroyers  entirely  from  our  view  except  at  inter- 
vals when  we  caught  them  roaring  over  wave 
crests.  A  day  of  such  strain  taxed  them  so  heavily 
that  when  the  darkness  came  they  all  were  turned 
aside  to  make  their  way  to  the  Firth  of  Forth  and 
leave  us  to  our  fate,  unguarded. 

Nearly  all  hands  stood  watch  through  the  night. 
We  were  rewarded,  for  the  gale  fell  gradually  flat. 
But  a  dense  morning  fog  replaced  the  wind,  which 
pleased  the  captain  even  less.  How  we  found  the 
Firth  of  Tyne  seemed  miraculous,  for  we  couldn't 
see  a  ship's  length.     There  was  whistling  enough 


74     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

as  we  passed  the  many  black  hulls  of  merchantmen 
outbound  from  the  mouth,  and  after  nearly  ram- 
ming two  of  them  the  fog  began  to  lift  before  a 
brilliant  sunrise. 

Between  the  great  breakwaters  of  the  river's 
mouth  we  steamed,  on  into  the  narrowing  inlet,  a 
marvel  of  the  industrial  world,  a  war  develop- 
ment of  England.  Solid  ships  in  all  construction 
stages  lined  its  banks,  closing  to  within  a  few 
hundred  feet  of  us  on  either  side.  The  huge  fac- 
tories behind  the  great  hulls  clattered,  steamed,  and 
belched  their  activities  as  a  swarm  of  struggling 
tugs  kept  our  ship  in  midstream.  Dense  and  more 
dense  grew  this  lane  of  industry  as  we  moved  along 
it,  and  as  our  towering  basket  masts  loomed  up 
between  the  rears  of  thickly  planted  buildings, 
great  crowds  rushed  out  and  swarmed  the  docks. 
When  they  realized  the  full  significance  of  the 
bright  new  ensign  floating  proudly  from  the  yards 
of  the  strange  gray  monster  they  beheld,  a  mighty 
cheer  went  up  from  these  crowds  along  the  river 
banks,  sustained  and  multiplied  as  we  slowly 
forced  our  way  around  each  bend.  To  them  for 
the  first  time,  America  had  come. 

Rounding  a  sharp  turn  we  were  confronted  sud- 
denly by  a  huge  basin-like  affair,  a  floating  dry 
dock.  Few  of  us  had  ever  seen  a  dock  of  this  type, 
for  our  navy  prefers  the  graving,  or  basin-type 
dock.  A  floating  dock  operates  in  exactly  the 
reverse  manner  from  a  graving  dock.     It  consists 


OUT  OF  THE  WATER  75 

essentially  of  a  pontoon  with  a  deck  large  enough 
to  take  the  vessel  to  be  docked,  with  pontoon  sides 
extending  upward  from  it.  This  dock  is  sub- 
merged by  allowing  the  pontoons  to  fill  with  water, 
and  the  vessel  is  floated  into  it.  The  water  is 
then  pumped  out  of  the  pontoons  and  the  dock 
rises,  lifting  the  ship  with  it.  Picture  then,  the 
enormous  size  of  the  floating  dock  which  would 
lift  a  dreadnaught!  Gradually  we  passed  be- 
tween its  sides,  were  lashed  and  "shored"  up, 
and  began  the  steady  rise.  Over  the  side  went  the 
bluejackets,  swarming  on  the  "stage  planks" 
hung  by  rope  completely  around  the  ship,  to  start 
the  cleaning  of  the  great  hull.  With  brooms  and 
scrapers  they  worked  in  their  filthiest  clothes,  all 
day,  lowering  their  stages  to  follow  the  receding 
water  down  the  slimy  hull.  For  when  wet,  marine 
growth  drops  easily  from  the  underbody,  but  must 
be  scraped  with  much  effort  when  dry.  Dry-dock 
work  is  always  rushed,  for  other  vessels  are  waiting 
their  turn.  Picture  the  rush  this  time,  by  a  crew 
who  knew  that  the  first  half  who  were  finished  could 
go  on  leave  at  once!  It  was  a  thorough  job  and  in 
record  time.  Before  nightfall  the  hull  was  clean 
and  dry,  ready  for  the  first  coat  of  antifouling 
paint  next  morning. 

Once  below  decks  the  business  of  deciding  to  go 
on  leave,  typewriting  a  request,  obtaining  per- 
mission from  Captain  Hughes,  packing,  and  leav- 
ing for  France  consumed  just  forty-five  minutes. 


76     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

Off  into  the  misty  night  we  steamed  in  a  fifty- 
footer,  leaving  behind  us  the  usual  chaotic  dry- 
dock  state  of  a  ship  at  the  mercy  of  electric  rivet- 
ters  and  buzzing  blow-torches.  Raised  out  of  the 
sea  in  her  lofty  cradle  the  great  ship  loomed  like  a 
mountain  as  we  drew  away  through  her  far-reach- 
ing twilight  shadow. 

Scarcely  knowing  where  we  might  end  up,  we 
boarded  the  train  at  Newcastle  next  morning  for 
London.  Men  were  on  that  train  with  us,  return- 
ing to  the  dreaded  south,  whose  full  equipment 
packs  and  deep-rimmed  eyes  bespoke  their  dread- 
ful, noble  destination.  Even  in  this  industrial 
city  of  the  north,  khaki  predominated  all. 
Everywhere,  the  letters  *'S.O.S."  would  catch  the 
eye.  It  was  England's  motto  in  her  stress,  per- 
force adopted:  "Save  or  Starve."  Save  she 
certainly  did,  it  soon  became  all  too  apparent.  The 
meal  we  had,  the  applogy  for  one,  seemed  scarcely 
dog-sized.  Money  could  not  buy  more.  We  ate 
by  law.  Still,  smilingly,  the  people  throve  on  just 
this  fare  from  habit,  and  we  felt  that  such  an  Eng- 
land could  not  starve.  A  lieutenant  of  a  British 
machine-gun  corps  had  entered  our  compart- 
ment, fresh  from  Cambrai.  His  wits  were  bristling 
with  recent  memories  of  things  that  tend  to  make 
men  age  by  weeks.  With  incidents  and  tragedies  of 
how  his  troop  division,  2,600  strong  had  marched 
against  Cambrai  and  returned  with  520  fighting 
strength,  he  whiled  away  that  ride  to  London. 


OUT  OF  THE  WATER  77 

There,  in  the  blue  lights  of  a  darkened  city,  we 
rushed  about  from  department  to  department  of 
the  Naval  Headquarters  in  vain  efforts  to  gain 
permission  and  the  needed  passports  to  visit 
France.  Finally,  as  described  elsewhere  herein, 
we  obtained  them  personally  from  our  great  and 
much-loved  Admiral  Sims.  It  was  a  weird  night, 
with  an  attempted  air  raid  in  the  early  morning, 
which  made  us  the  more  glad  to  leave  for  Folk- 
stone  in  the  forenoon. 

Our  American  uniforms  secured  our  seats, 
which  to  the  public  were  long  sold  out.  Looking 
from  the  car  window  to  the  masses  on  the  plat- 
form was  perhaps  the  saddest  sight  in  the  world 
those  days.  Men  were  leaving  again,  leaving  all 
that  they  loved,  for  the  horrors  and  the  glory  of  the 
trenches.  The  platforms  swarmed  not  alone  with 
soldiers  but  with  weeping  wives,  mothers,  sweet- 
hearts, friends,  who  knew  they  would  likely  never 
see  the  parting  ones  again.  It  seemed  as  though 
the  train  would  never  move,  but  when  at  last  it 
did,  and  we  saw  hope  pass  out  of  the  tear-dimmed 
eyes  of  hundreds  who  remained,  there  was  no 
heart  for  conversation.  Sending  a  man  to  camp 
or  even  to  hazy  "overseas"  is  greatly  different  from 
departure  for  "to-morrow  in  the  trenches."  Col- 
umns of  infantry  with  full  equipment  were  already 
filing  up  the  gangplanks  when  we  reached  the  chan- 
nel steamers.  There  was  no  emotion  here.  Men 
were  returning  to   their   business,  the  only  busi- 


78     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

ness  they  had  known  for  three  long  years.  Com- 
pany after  company  crowded  the  ships  before  we 
gained  our  passage,  for  the  customs  and  mihtary 
authorities  here  were  ultra  strict.  Only  the  magic 
of  four  letters  finally  let  us  through,  the  precious 
S-I-M-S,  without  which  we  never  could  have 
crossed  to  France. 

Simultaneously  with  the  appearance  of  four  des- 
troyers foaming  toward  the  harbour  mouth,  both 
vessels  cast  loose  and  were  under  way.  An  order 
at  once  passed  over  the  ship  for  all  hands  to  don 
life  preservers.  The  officer  enforcing  this  on  our 
deck  first  stopped  and  glared  at  us  without  them, 
then  smiled  in  recognition  of  the  uniform.  It 
seemed  ridiculous  indeed,  yet  England's  record  of 
transporting  thirteen  million  troops  across  this 
channel  with  a  loss  of  only  twenty-seven  hundred 
lives  must  be  maintained. 

At  fifteen  knots  the  chalky  white  clay  cliffs 
soon  faded  in  the  northern  mists,  and  disappear- 
ing left  us  straining  to  pick  up  France.  Midway 
we  passed  the  opposite-bound  channel  convoy 
from  Boulogne,  and  leaving  it  were  thrilled  to  see 
the  rolling  shores  of  France  gleam  through  the  sun- 
lit haze.  Gradually  we  neared  the  harbour  of 
Boulogne  with  its  myriad  of  sailing  fishermen  con- 
verging with  us  to  the  shelter  of  the  huge  break- 
water. Instead  of  standing  on  our  course  into 
the  harbour,  we  suddenly  wheeled  about  and  to  our 
amazement  proceeded  up  the  channel  full  speed 


OUT  OF  THE  WATER  79 

backward!  This  custom  is  necessitated  by  the 
tremendous  rise  and  fall  of  tide,  which  at  the  ebb, 
permits  no  depth  for  turning  in  the  water. 

Boulogne  lay  there,  a  town  in  arms  behind  the 
lines.  It  had  been  made  one  of  the  greatest  trans- 
portation arteries  to  the  western  front,  lying,  in 
fact,  but  four  hours  behind  the  lines.  Troops 
swarmed  this  camp-town,  waiting  their  despatch. 
Long  lines  of  railroad  cars  and  trucks  blocked  every 
highway,  steam  replacing  gasolene  in  large  part  for 
fuel.  Many  of  the  trucks  were  driven  by  small 
steam  engines  which  puffed  noisily  along  the 
streets.  The  railroad  tracks  and  yards  were  jam- 
med with  cars  which  seemed  always  to  be  moving 
in  or  out.  There  was  no  loafing  here,  no  rest. 
For  rest  meant  ruin. 

After  a  meal  at  the  temporary  oflScers'  club,  a 
meal  which  at  once  revealed  the  far  better  food 
situation  which  France  enjoyed,  we  left  in  a  car 
for  Wimereux,  that  once  famous  summer  resort  of 
northern  France,  which  had  been  converted  into 
one  of  her  greatest  hospital  centres.  From  all 
parts  of  the  fighting  front  wounded  men  were  sent 
here  as  their  immediate  danger  stage  was  passed. 
Not  only  had  all  casinos,  pavilions,  hotels  and 
resorts  been  utilized  to  house  the  patients,  but 
miles  and  miles  of  temporary  buildings  had  been 
built  and  used.  Nurses  in  khaki  seemed  to  be 
everywhere,  and  a  few  wore  white.  Hundreds  of 
ambulances,  driven  by  men  and  by  women,  plied 


80     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

about  the  base  on  countless  errands.  There  were 
great  outdoor  kitchens,  sleeping  pavilions,  bar- 
racks of  every  sort.  Sometimes  the  wounded  lay  in 
cots  on  lawns  or  on  the  beach,  and  all  were  divided 
into  camps  of  their  own  nationality.  It  seemed 
like  reviewing  exhibits  at  a  fair  to  pass  the  flags 
of  every  Allied  nation  flying  above  the  various 
camps,  all  races,  continents  and  both  hemispheres 
here  represented.  From  the  hills  at  the  northern 
side  we  could  see  the  outposted  patrol  of  blimps 
and  planes,  as  they  floated  incessantly  back  and 
forth,  leaving  with  us  a  sense  of  living  behind  a 
barrier.  And  then,  returning,  we  passed  a  huge 
meadow  in  which  no  flowers  grew,  but  in  their 
place  long  lines  of  small  white  crosses  fading  in  the 
distance.  Description  does  injustice  to  this  sight. 
One  must  see  it  at  a  time  like  that,  and  feel  it. 

We  had  eaten  dinner  and  were  waiting  for  the 
midnight  train  to  Paris  when  one  more  thrill 
dropped  on  the  quiet  night.  The  town  was  sud- 
denly alive,  for  by  a  wonderfully  perfected  system 
the  warning  of  a  coming  air  raid  had  been  passed 
to  every  ear.  Not  a  light  remained  in  town  to 
guide  us  as  we  tried  to  catch  some  glimpse  of  the 
intruders.  The  sky  guns  on  the  hills  cracked  and 
boomed  as  their  shells  flew  into  space,  but  low- 
flying  clouds  broke  up  the  visibility.  Just  as  we 
were  concluding  that  another  false  alarm  had  been 
sent  out,  the  ground  we  stood  on  trembled  and  a 
dull  flash  nerved  us  for  the  shocking  roar.     Less 


OUT  OF  THE  WATER  81 

than  a  mile  away  a  bomb  had  landed  in  the  centre 
of  a  city  street.  On  our  return  from  Paris,  three 
days  later,  we  had  time  to  visit  that  spot  and  see  a 
city  block  in  ruin.  The  torn  pavement  had  been 
hurled  through  the  walls  of  buildings,  two  of  which 
had  fallen.  Stone  ornaments  and  fixtures  had 
crashed  to  the  pavement  and  not  a  single  window 
in  the  block  remained  unshattered.  There  was  a 
casually  list  to  grit  the  teeth  and  look  at,  but  the 
people  heeded  little  such  an  incident.  Theirs 
was  a  bigger  task,  to  win  the  war. 

On  the  floor  of  a  coach  we  slept,  or  attempted  to 
sleep,  the  jerky,  noisy  ride  to  Paris,  sharing  our 
compartment  with  two  oflBcers  of  the  Royal  Flying 
Corps.  Toward  nine  o'clock,  two  hours  late,  we 
entered  the  city  of  our  destination,  a  fighting, 
hopeful,  manless  city,  Paris.  Manless,  for  only  the 
chafif  were  left  without  uniforms.  The  women, 
too,  wore  blue  or  white  in  large  proportion — 
all  in  the  service,  striving  for  one  end.  A  strange 
emptiness  could  be  felt  in  the  streets,  then  as  at  no 
later  time,  for  when  the  American  soldiers  came, 
they  reawakened  Paris.  Crutches  and  slings  and 
campaign  ribbons  in  plenty  bespoke  the  Marne. 
Girls  in  the  banks  and  stores  and  cars  pronounced 
the  sacrifice.  Yet  there  was  food  in  plenty,  such 
as  England  had  not  seen  for  years.  Paris  had 
suffered  from  the  air  less  frequently  than  London, 
but  with  heavier  bombs.  Some  had  been  drop- 
ped which  were  reported  to  be  1,000-pound  pro- 


82     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

jectiles.  All  statuary  and  fine  carving  in  the  city- 
had  been  or  were  being  encased  with  sandbags 
for  protection,  leaving  no  art  to  be  seen. 

One  of  our  most  interesting  incidents  in  Paris 
proved  to  be  our  quest  of  a  German  helmet. 
After  some  hours  of  endeavour  we  succeeded  in 
locating  two  of  them,  but  neither  could  be  sep- 
arated from  its  owner.  We  were  abandoning  the 
search,  when  a  womari,  who  had  overhead  our 
conversation  in  a  small  store,  ventured  that  she 
had  one  we  might  like.  Leaving  a  card  to  tell 
where  she  could  send  it,  I  scarcely  expected  to 
hear  of  it  again.  Nevertheless  there  was  delivered 
to  us,  just  before  we  left,  a  box  containing  the 
desired  helmet  and  this  unusual  though  char- 
acteristically French  note: 

Sib: 

Here  are  the  "Souvenirs"  that  I  promised  to  you  yesterday 
afternoon.  I  am  sorry  to  send  you  only  this  "Casque  de 
trenchee's"  and  Bavarian  cap,  but  I  join  to  them  a  better 
thing;  a  tiny  bit  of  aeroplane  coming  from  a  machine  which 
our  Guynemer  destroyed  a  few  months  before  his  death,  poor 
kid! 

I  give  it  to  you  because  you  were  much  more  confident  in 
me  than  your  comrade  who,  it  is  quite  easy  to  see,  has  been 
taught  to  be  very,  very  careful  with  French  women!  Be- 
sides, he  is  quite  right,  and  it  is  certainly  the  best  thing  for 
you  both  to  do  just  now,  as  Paris  is  sometimes  more  danger- 
ous than  "U  "-boats.  But  I  think  that,  in  my  quality  of 
French,  I  must  help  our  Allies  as  far  as  I  can  do  it,  and  it  is  a 
great  pleasure  for  me  to  say  that  I  like  to  see  you  coming 


OUT  OF  THE  WATER  83 

to  us  during  this  horrid  tragedy,  as  loyally  as  you  did,  and 
that  I  would  be  pleased  to  prove  to  you  for  my  own  part,  how 
far  our  old  France  is  grateful  to  your  beautiful  "Mother  land." 
God  bless  you  and  your  friend,  and  find  here  my  best  regards 
with  all  my  pleasure  to  give  something  to  the  Great  War. 

The  shortage  of  men  in  the  city  afforded  a  de- 
cided struggle  to  dine  alone.  Each  meal  created 
the  same  experience,  most  amusedly.  In  its  gay 
spots,  Paris  lived  the  same  life  it  had  known  in 
peace  days.  The  times  afforded  some  excuse  for 
mad  conduct,  and  having  seen  the  state  of  im- 
morality existing  in  some  parts  one  ceased  to  won- 
der that  the  fighters  in  the  trenches  were  glad  to 
learn  of  Paris  being  air  bombed!  Yet  there  is  a 
fascination  to  this  wild  side  of  Paris  unlike  that  to 
be  found  elsewhere  in  the  world. 

So  much  for  Paris;  but  with  our  prohibitive 
orders  we  had  not  a  chance  of  seeing  what  we  most 
desired — the  real  front.  On  the  morning  of  Wash- 
ington's Birthday  the  idea  occurred  to  us  that 
something  might  be  accomplished  in  the  air.  This 
happy  thought  soon  had  us  hustling  to  the  Ameri- 
can Aviation  headquarters  which  we  located  by 
the  interminate  line  of  U.  S.  motor  trucks  parked 
on  the  curbs  outside.  A  lucky  break  gave  us  an 
army  car  and  driver  for  the  day,  and  started  us  for 
the  great  French  testing  fields  at  Villacoublay, 
about  an  hour  distant. 

On  the  sea  we  knew  little  of  the  air.  We  had 
not  taken  time  to  follow  its  advance.    Imagine, 


84     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

then,  our  sensation  at  coming  suddenly  upon  the 
mammoth  field  at  Villacoublay.  Too  huge  an 
enterprise  to  associate  with  airplanes,  too  stagger- 
ing a  revelation  at  once  to  be  assimilated,  we  stood 
and  gazed  amazedly.  There  lay  before  us  as  we 
passed  inside  the  fence,  a  vast  oval  plain  perhaps 
two  miles  across,  bordered  on  all  sides  by  scores  of 
great  hangars  housing  up  to  twelve  machines 
apiece.  All  types  of  planes  were  represented  here, 
some  flying,  some  pulled  out  and  resting  on  the 
plain,  some  standing  in  their  sheds  like  sleeping 
dragon  flies.  Triplanes,  biplanes,  monoplanes, 
from  huge  bombers  to  the  tiniest  scout,  some  nearly 
obsolete,  more  of  the  newest  types,  made  up  a  fleet 
conservatively  numbering  fifteen  hundred  planes. 
It  was  the  consummation  of  the  dreams  of  Wilbur 
Wright.  Hours  could  have  passed  in  simple  ob- 
servation; but  we  were  there  to  fly.  It  was  not 
long  before  Lieutenant  Chatan,  a  French  army 
pilot  to  whom  we  bore  an  introduction,  arrived  to 
make  some  test  flights.  At  Villacoublay  no  one 
thinks  flying  out  of  ordinary.  Chatan  seemed  de- 
lighted to  find  some  one  really  keen  to  fly.  He 
wore  two  bars  and  palm  on  his  Croix  de  Guerre, 
had  been  retired  temporarily  from  the  front  with 
minor  injuries.  To  him  flying  had  become  as. 
natural  as  to  drive  his  car.  His  real  work  lay  with 
the  wireless  telephone  and  synchronization  of  ma- 
chine-gun fire  through  rotating  propeller  blades. 
Neither  my  comrade  nor  I  had  ever  flown. 


OUT  OF  THE  WATER  85 

Lieutenant  Chatan  was  to  make  four  flights — two 
for  each  of  us.  With  a  few  directions  to  his  me- 
chanics and  a  glance  here  and  there  Chatan  jumped 
into  his  cockpit  and  was  ready.  I  had  hurried  into 
a  borrowed  flying  suit  and  cHmbed  behind  him. 
In  a  tremendous  whir  we  left  the  ground,  and  for 
the  first  time  I  felt  that  delicious  sailing  sensation 
of  a  'plane.  Up — ^up — ^up — ^the  appreciation  of 
our  eighty-mile  speed  soon  was  lost,  for  there  was 
nothing  passing,  no  perspective.  The  forests  be- 
low looked  like  toy  sticks  in  a  sand  pile,  while  the 
great  flying  field  and  its  surroundings  might  have 
been  for  football.  Versailles  and  Paris  lay  below 
us  at  a  single  glance,  set  in  the  rolling  landscape 
of  France,  four  thousand  feet  beneath.  Into  the 
fleecy  clouds  the  pilot  wove  his  way,  blotting  out 
the  earth  completely.  Then  suddenly  our  nose 
turned  downward  and  we  banked  sharply  on  a 
curve.  The  curve  continued  and  blood  rushed  to 
my  head  as  our  speed  increased  to  120  miles  an 
hour.  The  motor  ceased  to  roar  as  I  saw  the  pro- 
peller lag.  Earth,  sky,  horizon,  all  were  one  for  an 
instant;  then  with  a  jerky  upward  glide  our  tumble 
checked.  The  motor  cracked  and  hummed  again 
as  we  glided  smoothly.  A  huge  court  lay  beneath 
us,  scarcely  five  hundred  feet  away,  surrounded  by 
huge  marble  buildings.  We  had  done  a  spiral 
nose  dive  over  the  Palace  at  Versailles ! 

On  the  second  flight  we  travelled  north  and  east, 
flying  at  three  thousand  feet.     Chatan  broke  the 


86    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

silence  with  a  gesture.  "There,"  he  shouted,  ''you 
can  discern  the  second  Hues.  We  must  turn  back, 
for  we  are  unarmed."  I  agreed  with  him.  Above 
the  great  field  he  ran  down  a  graceful  letter  S  as  he 
circled  the  desired  landing  spot,  without  his  motor 
turning.  Gliding  to  earth  he  switched  on  his  mo- 
tor, bounded  forward  as  he  touched  the  field,  and 
jerked  along  until  finally,  cutting  off  the  spark,  the 
dainty  Nieuport  came  to  rest  with  lagging  propeller, 
a  stone's  throw  from  its  hangar.  Such  a  demon- 
stration of  control  and  development  in  the  air  left 
me  assured  that  sea  life  was  too  tame  a  calling  in 
this  day  and  age.  To  any  one  who  doubts  the  fu- 
ture of  the  airplane  I  recommend  a  single  visit  to 
such  a  field  as  Villacoublay,  where  the  thought,  the 
work,  the  future  of  the  cause  is  built  in  terms  of  air. 

Next  morning  found  us  in  Boulogne,  returning. 
The  trip  had  been  more  quiet  and  permitted  sleep. 
We  visited  the  scene  of  damage  we  had  witnessed 
in  the  air  raid,  and  made  our  way  without  event 
to  England  with  the  cheery  troops  returning  for 
their  well-earned  leave.  There  were  several  hours 
in  darkened  London,  which  on  Sunday  night  af- 
forded small  attraction  to  a  stranger.  Captain 
Hughes  and  many  other  officers  had  joined  us  on 
the  train  which  brought  us  into  Newcastle,  quite 
sleepless,  at  five  a.m. 

Down  the  narrow  river  Tyne  we  sped  with  the 
tide,  in  a  special  boat,  until  with  great  relief  we 
caught  a  welcome  glimpse  of  the  towering  basket 


OUT  OF  THE  WATER  87 

lops,  raised  far  above  the  river  mists  of  dawn. 
Soon  a  huge  wall  of  red  lay  squarely  in  our  course. 
The  great  hull  had  received  its  first  dressing,  and 
glistening,  bespoke  its  fine  condition.  On  watch 
at  once,  the  hammering,  tearing,  shouting  week  of 
dry-dock  ordeal  began  for  those  of  us  whose  lot  had 
been  the  first  division  of  the  leave. 

The  real  purpose  of  this  dry-dock  period  for  the 
New  York  had  nearly  been  completed.  She  was 
dry-docked,  primarily,  to  be  rigged  to  carry  para- 
vanes, those  steel  fish-line  devices  which  are  towed 
from  the  bows  of  a  ship  and  plane  outward  on  a 
steel  cable  to  protect  a  ship  in  mine-infested  waters. 
Briefly,  a  paravane  is  made  up  of  a  hollow,  tor- 
pedo-shaped body,  crossed  by  a  steel  plane  ter- 
minating in  two  floats.  Horizontal  and  vertical 
rudders  form  a  tail  and  it  is  equipped  with  a  cable- 
cutting  jaw.  In  operation  a  paravane  is  towed 
on  either  side  of  a  ship  by  a  single  cable  attached  to 
the  bow  below  the  surface  near  the  bottom  of  the 
hull.  The  paravanes  plane  out  on  either  side  of  the 
ship  to  a  distance  of  about  thirty  feet,  held  there 
by  the  angle  at  which  the  vertical  rudder  is  set. 
Its  plane  member  and  its  horizontal  rudder  hold 
the  paravane  on  its  course  and  at  the  proper  depth. 
On  either  side  of  the  ship's  fo'castle  a  boom  is  rig- 
ged with  tackle  which  hoists  or  lowers  the  paravane 
out  and  in.  The  cables  from  this  boom  remain 
attached  but  are  slacked  when  the  paravane  is 
operating.     Thus    a   V-shaped   wedge   is   formed 


88    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

across  the  ship's  bows,  fending  off  whatever  comes 
in  contact.  Mines,  which  are  attached  to  cables 
running  to  the  bottom,  are  engaged  by  the  para- 
vane wire  and  sUde  along  it  on  their  own  cable 
until  they  come  to  the  jaw.  The  jaw  cuts  the  mine 
cable  and  the  mine  rises  harmlessly  to  the  surface. 
Their  effectiveness  has  been  repeatedly  proven  in 
the  mine  zone  by  every  type  of  vessel.  Ships  trav- 
elling at  high  speeds  experience  considerable  diffi- 
culty with  paravanes,  owing  to  the  breakage  of  the 
towing  wire  under  the  increased  strain,  which 
seems  to  be  their  only  fault.  The  serious  losses 
incurred  by  enemy  mines  in  the  early  stages  of  the 
war  were  almost  entirely  eliminated  by  the  use  of 
Britain's  great  invention,  paravanes.  It  was  with 
a  sense  of  profound  relief  indeed  that  we  greeted  the 
installation  of  paravane  equipment  in  our  ship,  for 
we  had  heretofore  regarded  the  mine  as  a  far  more 
treacherous  weapon  than  the  torpedo. 

One  day  of  that  week  in  drydock  provided  an 
experience  never  to  be  forgotten.  Vaguely  we  had 
learned  that  one  of  the  greatest  British  munition 
factories  was  close  at  hand,  but  that  the  strictness 
of  war  measures  made  it  practically  impossible  to 
gain  admittance.  Two  of  us  determined  to  take 
a  chance,  however,  and  by  reference  to  Captain 
Hughes  and  the  New  York  we  managed  to  get  past 
a  dozen  sentries  to  a  receiving  room.  Here  two 
men  took  identification  data  from  us,  telephoned 
the  ship  and  finally  carried  our  cards  to  Sir  Percy 


Admiral  Beatty  Chatting  with  the  King 

On  the  occasion  of  a  visit  of  King  George  to  the  Grand  Fleet's  Flagship, 
Queen  Elizabeth 


1^  -^ 


Admiral  Rodman  and  His  Four  Original  Captains 

Left  to  right:  Captain  Scales,  Captain  Wiley,  Captain  Washington, 
Captain  Hughes 


"Sixteen  Blue!" 

The  American  Squadron  executing  a  right  about  turn  while  manoeuvring 
with  the  Grand  Fleet 


OUT  OF  THE  WATER  89 

Girouard,  one  of  the  principals  of  this  vast  concern, 
the  '*Sir  W.  G.  Armstrong,  Whitworth  Company." 
Our  status  estabHshed,  they  could  not  do  enough 
for  us.  After  luncheon  in  the  directors'  dining 
room,  Sir  Percy  outlined  what  the  plant  comprised, 
then  detailed  one  of  his  assistants  to  be  our  guide. 

There  are  many  centres  in  the  web  of  a  great  war 
which,  in  the  clamour  of  the  front-line  contact  of  the 
infantry,  we  are  wont  to  overlook.  It  is  the  power 
behind  that  pushes  on  the  fighting  men,  the  unseen 
forces  which  maintain  them.  Realization  of  this 
truth  struck  me  for  the  first  time  as  we  passed 
through  building  after  building  of  this  mammoth 
plant  dedicated  to  the  industry  of  war.  For  three 
solid  miles  along  the  waterfront  the  buildings  were 
massed,  perhaps  four  deep.  Within  their  walls 
the  labour  of  seventy-five  thousand  men  and 
women  was  bent  incessantly  on  the  production 
and  dispatch  of  every  sort  of  war  machine  and  pro- 
jectile in  use.  It  was  the  answer  of  Vulcan  to  the 
call  of  Mars.  Organization  carried  the  great  de- 
partments independently  from  units  of  a  whole 
down  to  the  corner  that  was  making  some  tiny 
article.  The  shell  department  had  grown  within 
itself  in  twenty  months  from  two  thousand  to 
thirty-five  thousand  persons,  50  per  cent,  of  whom 
were  women.  There  were  shells  of  every  sort  in 
mighty  heaps  from  fourteen-inch  explosive  siege 
shells  to  machine-gun  and  rifle  bullets  in  hundreds 
of  thousands.     We  traced  them  from  the  foundries 


90     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

where  the  molten  metal  glared,  to  the  freight  cars 
in  the  shipping  houses,  bound  for  London.  There 
were  the  guns  themselves,  literally  miles  of  them, 
naval  guns  and  army  guns,  six-pounders  to  the 
tremendous  14-inch  rifles  mounted  on  railway  car- 
riages, with  all  their  intricate  mechanism  and 
equipment.  They  could  be  seen  red  hot  as  cast- 
ings, dropped,  shrinking,  forging,  tooling,  wire- 
winding  or  at  any  stage  of  ordnance  manufacture 
in  this  labyrinth  of  incessant  toil,  toil,  toil.  An 
endless  chain  of  ships  and  freight  cars  brought  in 
fuel  and  raw  materials.  Another  train  plied  day 
and  night  to  rush  the  finished  product  to  the  fight- 
ing fronts.  There  seemed  to  be  no  limit  to  the 
stream  of  output,  for  the  swarm  of  employees  were 
working  as  their  brothers  fought,  that  they  might 
live.  Nor  was  their  fashioning  of  metal  limited  to 
guns  and  shells.  Tanks,  submarines,  torpedoes, 
turrets,  even  destroyers  were  in  construction,  each 
involving  a  complete  factory.  As  we  entered  each 
new  unit  we  were  shown  the  interesting  features  of 
construction  until  at  the  end  of  two  hours  I  felt 
the  grim  realization  that  the  industry  and  brains 
of  our  world  had  turned  to  a  new  and  stupendous 
object:  war.  Behind  such  plants  the  British  na- 
tion lay,  for  the  success  of  her  armies  rested  here. 
No  glory  for  this  great  army  slaving  in  the  dingy 
rattle  and  roar  of  the  machine  shops.  They  are 
slaves  to  the  cause.  The  men  in  the  first  line  call 
for  guns,  for  shells;  they  get  them,  little  realizing 


OUT  OF  THE  WATER  91 

the  untiring  toil  that  puts  them  "over  the  top." 
The  afternoon  was  far  too  short,  but  left  us  with  a 
new  sense  of  insignificance,  of  admiration  for  the 
mighty  British  nation. 

The  remainder  of  that  week  in  dry  dock  was  con- 
sumed with  returning  obligations  to  the  city  of 
Newcastle.  The  ship  looked  splendid  beneath  her 
shiny  coat  of  paint  and  well  repaid  our  guests  their 
visits.  The  shouting  of  orders,  the  creak  of  strain- 
ing hawsers,  the  droning  of  holystones  on  the  deck 
above,  which  wakened  me  on  Saturday  morning, 
served  also  to  disclose  a  flooded  dry  dock.  There 
remained  but  to  secure  for  sea,  be  warped  away 
by  a  host  of  tugs,  and  then  farewell.  We  passed 
from  the  land  to  join  the  fleet,  completely  re- 
created. 

Our  approach  to  the  sea  had  been  long  heralded 
to  the  patrols,  and  with  good  reason.  Three  times 
a  ship  which  had  left  the  dry  dock  on  the  Tyne  had 
been  met  by  immediate  attack.  One  of  these  de- 
stroyed the  battleship,  King  Edward  VII.  Infor- 
mation from  an  inside  source  is  suspected  to  leak 
out  concerning  the  movements  of  dry-docked  ves- 
sels. Therefore  our  reception  by  patrols  was  made 
coinplete.  As  we  passed  the  harbour  breakwaters 
the  dark  bluffs,  sharply  silhouetted  in  the  western 
sunlight,  stood  out  as  a  friendly  haven,  hard  to 
leave.  Two  bombing  seaplanes,  huge  and  laden, 
swept  above  our  channel,  back  and  forth.  Four 
mine  sweepers  passed  in,  returning,  their  duty  done 


92     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

for  us.  A  fanlike  shield  of  motor  launches,  armed 
with  depth  bombs,  spread  before  us  twenty  strong, 
and  still  beyond  our  own  destroyers  lay,  for  all  the 
world  like  pawing,  neighing  mounts  awaiting  the 
chase,  as  they  breathed  out  their  volumes  of  inky 
smoke.  Battle  stations  sounded  sharply.  Our 
paravanes,  swinging  on  the  davits,  took  their  initial 
plunge.  The  wires  hummed  as  they  tautened 
with  the  strain  of  the  planing  bodies,  and  we  felt 
secure.  Our  secondary  battery  scarcely  had  been 
manned,  with  powder  only  coming  up  the  hoists 
when  ''Train  on  submarine  bearing  50"  came  rush- 
ing down  the  voice  tube  from  control.  Four 
seconds  made  us  ready.  Four  vessels  of  our  van- 
guard were  converging  on  the  spot  and  found  no 
scent  replying  to  their  tearing  bombs.  They  sought 
in  vain  the  vanished  periscope,  joined  by  a  hundred 
lookouts.  No  movement,  no  suspicion  broke  the 
fading  dusk.  One  by  one  our  escort  dwindled  as 
the  little  fellows  turned  away.  Their  part  was 
done.  For  theirs  is  a  game  in  which  the  victor  has 
no  spoils  to  claim,  only  a  silent  victory,  protecting. 
Our  path  lay  to  the  deep  sea  with  the  destroyers. 
The  airplanes  circled,  rose,  turned  westward,  dis- 
appeared. Clouds  streaked  out  great  blotches  in 
the  glowing  west  which  cast  a  gloomy  shadow  on 
our  flank  as  we  veered  northward,  opened  up  to 
eighteen  knots  and  squared  away. 


CHAPTER   VII 

BACKING  BEATTY 

OPERATIONS     OF     THE     AMERICAN     BATTLE     SQUADRON 
IN  THE  NORTH  SEA,  1917-1918 

Ohy  wondrous  hour  !    Oh,  mighty  power  I 

Ohy  work  of  mortal  man  I 
Your  cause  is  just — guard  well  your  trust. 

As  only  real  men  can. 
Stand  fast  for  right  throughout  your  fight 

To  keep  the  ocean  free: 
We  stand  or  fall,  we  stake  our  all. 

When  the  Grand  Fleet  goes  to  sea. 

— E.  E.  Wilson. 

I  HAD  always  certain  misgivings,"  declared 
Admiral  Beatty,  after  the  surrender  of  the 
German  fleet,  "'and  when  the  Sixth  Bat- 
tle Squadron  became  a  part  of  the  Grand  Fleet 
those  misgivings  were  doubly  strengthened.  I 
knew  then  they  would  throw  up  their  hands.  Ap- 
parently, the  Sixth  Battle  Squadron  was  the  last 
straw  that  broke  the  camel's  back." 

To  describe  just  how  this  "last  straw  broke  the 
camel's  back,"  its  part  in  accomplishing  the  great 
end,  involves  telling  the  story  of  the  year  of  oper- 
ations of  our  Battle  Squadron  with  the  Grand  Fleet 
under  the  dashing  Admiral  Beatty.  To  the  aver- 
age person,  the  most  surprising  feature  of  that 

93 


94     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

year  of  cooperation  in  the  Allied  navies  is  the 
absence  of  a  capital  engagement.  That  this  should 
cause  surprise  is  due  in  the  first  place  to  the  hazy 
understanding  which  prevails,  of  even  the  most  fun- 
damental phases  of  naval  warfare — ^to  the  lack  of 
realization  that  *'the  navy  is  a  shield  and  not  a 
rattling  sabre." 

When  the  American  Battle  Squadron  joined  the 
Grand  Fleet  of  Britain  in  December,  1917,  that 
great  force  was  lying  quietly  in  its  northern  base  at 
Scapa  Flow,  a  harbour  of  the  Orkney  Islands.  A 
few  days  after  our  arrival  I  climbed  to  the  crest  of 
a  hill  on  a  little  island  called  Flotta,  to  look  over 
that  great,  landlocked  harbour.  Spread  out  be- 
low me,  swinging  aimlessly  to  the  whims  of  the 
eddying  currents,  lay  the  Grand  Fleet.  No  little 
awe  did  those  ships  inspire,  mingling  with  the  gray 
of  earth  and  sky  and  sea.  One  thought  alone 
kept  throbbing  before  me,  that  I  beheld,  in  that 
square  mile  of  listless  ships,  the  only  barrier  that 
lay  between  a  decent  earth  and  a  fiendish,  Hunnish 
chaos.  Could  he  throttle  that  fleet  where  it  lay, 
the  Hun  would  control  the  seas.  And  control  of 
the  seas  must,  ultimately,  prevail.  Small  won- 
der that  the  eyes  of  the  world  were  with  mine 
as  I  gazed  on  that  complex,  steely  fabric,  the 
sure  shield  that  had  protected  the  world  and  main- 
tained the  armies  of  freedom  through  three  long 
years. 

The  following  week,  for  the  first  time  since  our 


BACKING  BEATTY  95 

arrival,  we  went  to  sea.  The  Grand  Fleet  was  on 
one  of  her  many  "baiting"  exploits,  involving  the 
entire  Allied  sea  forces.  The  British  tossed  such 
exploits  off  in  scorn  because  through  weeks,  and 
months,  and  years,  all  trials  and  tricks  had  failed 
to  coax  the  Hun  from  his  protected  lair.  To  evade 
the  prowling  submarines  which  lay  for  ever  in  our 
harbour  mouths,  we  sailed,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom in  the  black  of  night.  No  glimmer  of  light, 
no  sound,  revealed  a  single  ship.  A  delicate  clock, 
a  gyro  compass,  a  patent  log,  and  a  little  group  of 
men  within  each  hull,  controlled  the  destinies  of 
nations.  A  hundred  strong  those  great  gray  mon- 
sters wound  their  way  through  the  layers  of  nets 
and  fields  of  mines;  mastered  the  rocks  and  shoals 
of  Pentland  Firth  and  passed  on  to  the  sea,  un- 
heralded, unknown.  To  the  veteran  British  it 
had  become  routine;  to  us  it  was  a  revelation. 
Again,  the  triumph  of  navigation. 

When  I  came  on  deck  in  the  blazing  sunrise  of 
the  following  morning,  I  beheld  a  sight  which  sent 
a  thrill  from  tip  to  toe,  and  which,  once  seen,  could 
never  be  forgotten.  The  Grand  Fleet  stretched 
away  before  me,  a  veritable  cordon  of  living  steel, 
touching  the  arc  of  heaven  either  way!  No 
longer  the  greyhounds  of  Scapa  lolling  listlessly, 
and  sleepily  about  their  kennels.  Here  was  the 
pack  in  full  cry,  belching  dense  volumes  of  black 
smoke  as  they  sped  on  defiantly  to  catch  the  scent. 
Millions  of  dollars  and  thousands  of  men!     The 


96     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

glorious  accomplishment  of  years  of  toil  and  hope, 
for  an  ideal.  To  work  with  it,  to  fight  with  it,  to 
be  a  part  of  this  vast  array  was  our  lot  for  months 
as  we  skirted  the  enemy's  coasts  from  Heligoland 
to  Norway. 

This  first  endeavour  bore  no  fruit.  The  enemy 
did  not  appear  in  any  form.  Perhaps  for  us  it  was 
as  well,  for  we  were  intensely  occupied  with  the 
task  of  merging  ourselves  with  the  British  navy. 
We  were  actually  being  grafted  on  to  a  great  parent 
tree.  The  task  must  have  been  consuming  for 
those  in  command.  We  hear  frequently  of  the 
trials  and  despair  encountered  by  those  divisions 
of  our  army  that  were  forced  to  give  up  their 
American  ways,  their  American  equipment,  their 
American  command.  But  they  had  time  for 
readjustment,  opportunity  to  confer,  margins  for 
error.  Not  so  with  navies.  We  found  our- 
selves at  once  in  the  enemy's  territory,  supposedly 
ready  for  attack,  a  new  unit  of  a  great  force  which 
had  been  drilled  to  the  utmost  perfection;  operating 
in  formations  and  deployments  entirely  new;  using 
a  totally  strange  system  of  signals,  flags,  and  codes. 
For  the  signal  force  it  meant  forget  at  once  their 
life's  work  and  begin  all  over.  It  was  day  and 
night  for  them,  but  they  stuck  to  it.  Mistakes 
gradually  diminished,  until  they  faded  completely 
away.  But  on  that  first  sally  more  than  once  we 
held  our  breath.  The  wireless  force  found  itseK 
in  no  better  plight,  with  changed  atmosphere,  more 


(glCtU  ["itlftTJW 


SWEDEN 


h«nbttt9 


If     H     A     N     C     I. 


War  Chart  of  the  North  Sea 

Outlining  exact  courses  of  the  American  Battle  Squadron  while  operating  as 
a  unit  of  the  Grand  Fleet.  The  shaded  areas  indicate  allied  mine  fields. 
Note  North  Sea  mine  barrage  across  northern  entrance. 

97 


98     BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

interferences — a  myriad  of  them — different  Hert- 
zian wave  lengths  and  strange  operators  to  receive 
from!  It  was  disheartening  to  the  man  who  had 
considered  himself  expert.  But  there  we  were, 
at  sea  and  cleared  for  action — and  all  that  could  be 
done  was  "carry  on."  A  few  weeks  later  Admiral 
Rodman  asked  a  visiting  British  officer  what  it 
was  that  most  impressed  him  on  his  ship.  To 
quote  that  officer,  he  thus  replied:  "To  all  intents 
and  purposes  you've  dropped  out  of  the  skies  plop 
into  the  middle  of  the  Grand  Fleet.  It's  a  fleet 
that  has  been  three  and  a  half  years  at  war.  It 
belongs  to  the  oldest  and  most  conservative — ^if 
not  the  proudest — navy  in  the  world.  It's  got 
the  Armada  and  the  Nile  and  Copenhagen  and 
Trafalgar  and  Jutland  to  its  credit,  and  I  fancy, 
it  takes  a  largish  size  in  hats  on  the  strength  of  it. 
It  certainly  has  a  standard  by  which  to  judge  stran- 
gers. From  the  moment  your  ships  rounded  that 
headland  the  British  Fleet  has  been  sizing  you  up. 
Every  boat  that  is  manned  and  leaves  your  ship, 
every  officer  or  man  who  moves  about  your  decks, 
is  being  watched  and  criticized  and  studied  by 
several  thousand  pairs  of  eyes.  You  live  in  the 
limelight.  All  that  is  apt  to  make  a  very  good 
man  indeed  self-conscious.  I  came  over  on  the 
lookout  for  seK-consciousness,  like  a  lady  visitor 
looks  out  for  wet  paint  on  board.  I've  been  ten 
hours  in  your  flagship,  and  I've  talked  to  samples 
of  every  rank  and  rating.    I've  only  seen  one  per- 


BACKING  BEATTY  99 

son  self-conscious  under  friendly  scrutiny.  I 
caught  sight  of  myself  in  the  looking  glass." 

Twice  within  a  month  we  changed  our  base  be- 
tween Rosyth  and  Scapa,  led  by  the  Queen  Eliza- 
heth.  We  had  learned  thereby  the  British  escort 
system  and  had  cruised  with  British  submarines — 
those  23-knot  monster  "tinfish"  called  the  "K" 
class.  We  learned  sadly  enough  what  the  North 
Sea  winter  meant — a  seething  cauldron  in  a  drench- 
ing mist.  Then,  on  the  6th  of  February,  came  our 
first  exploit — alone. 

The  zest  fell  out  of  the  morning  drills  when  we 
learned  that  something  big  was  in  the  air.  Rumours 
of  an  operation  were  confirmed  at  noon,  for  we 
went  to  two  hours'  notice  for  steam,  and  then  se- 
cured for  sea.  The  squadron  drifter,  lying  at  our 
stern,  requested  of  the  officer  of  the  deck  permis- 
sion to  remain  astern  as  usual  for  the  night. 
"Yes,"  he  replied,  "if  you  can  do  19  knots."  At 
four  we  had  our  orders.  The  Sixth  Battle  Squad- 
ron was  to  shield  a  convoy  bound  for  Bergen, 
Norway;  to  get  between  the  convoy  and  the  bases 
of  the  enemy,  and  stay  there,  come  what  might. 
It  was  a  thrilling  prospect.  The  evening,  clear, 
bleak,  quiet,  was  distinctly  lavender;  lighted,  ap- 
parently, more  by  the  snow-powdered  hills  than  the 
gray  sky.  Silently,  on  signal,  one  by  one,  our  four 
majestic  bows  swung  into  stately  column  which 
seemed  rather  to  glide  than  be  driven  through 
the  sea,  so  gentle  was  the  throbbing  of  our  mighty 


100  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

screw-beats.  Gradually  we  passed  down  the  long 
lines  of  the  Grand  Fleet,  superdreadnaughts, 
dreadnaughts,  battle  cruisers,  cruisers,  light  cruis- 
ers and  destroyers;  silent,  powerful,  stretching  to 
the  very  nets. 

The  nets!  It  would  be  unfitting  not  to  dwell 
a  moment  on  the  service  of  the  nets  and  the  patrols 
of  the  Grand  Fleet,  for  without  their  unswerving 
aid  our  operations  would  have  been  short-lived. 
At  the  outbreak  of  the  war  Great  Britain  possessed 
some  four  hundred  vessels.  When  the  Armistice 
was  signed,  more  than  five  thousand  flew  the  British 
flag,  including  some  seventeen  hundred  trawlers, 
converted  from  a  hundred  peaceful  sea  pursuits  to 
be  patrol  vessels,  net  guard  vessels,  mine  sweepers, 
etc.  The  steam  fishing  fleets  became  a  little  navy 
within  the  great  navy  itself,  and  before  the  war's 
end  boasted  its  own  traditions.  Outside  of  every 
naval  base  and  harbour,  these  sturdy  little  sea 
worn  vessels  kept  a  never-ending  vigil,  day  and 
night,  the  seasons  'round  through  four  long  years. 
They  bore  the  daily  drudgery  and  swept  our  chan- 
nels clear  of  mines,  no  matter  what  the  weather. 
Always  they  shielded  us  from  the  enemy's  scout- 
ing submarines  which  lurked  ever  below  the  sur- 
face of  our  harbour  mouths,  with  a  patrol  that 
dotted  the  coast  from  Dover  to  the  Shetlands. 
They  gamely  bore  the  brunt  of  the  German  des- 
troyer raids  on  English  coastal  towns,  suffering 
from  them  heavy  losses.     And  out  there,  plunging 


BACKING -B^A'itY,}  I'l  i  v  I  /A     101 

up  and  down  with  every  sea  for  months  on  end, 
a  trawler  held  each  hundred  yards  throughout  the 
length  of  miles  of  barrier  nets,  behind  which  lay 
the  fleet  in  serene  safety.  The  conditions  were 
appalling  with  which  the  super-men  that  formed 
the  crews  of  those  storm-scarred  trawlers  or  drif- 
ters had  to  contend  for  their  existence.  None  but 
a  sailor,  bred  to  the  sea,  could  have  stood  it. 
Their  food  was  seldom  cooked;  their  clothes  were 
often  soaked,  with  all  of  their  belongings;  they  had 
no  exercise  to  speak  of,  scarcely  room  to  stretch; 
and  often,  where  I've  been  aboard,  the  air  below 
decks  reeked  for  lack  of  ventilation!  "Only  stout 
hulls  and  stouter  hearts"  could  hope  to  endure  and 
survive.  Still  they  drove  forward  on  their  cheer- 
less, desperate  patrol,  year  after  year,  the  knowl- 
edge of  their  service  and  two  weeks'  leave  each 
year,  their  sole  reward.  But  could  those  British 
sailors  stay  at  home  and  see  their  unfortified  coast 
towns  shelled,  their  harmless  sea  industries  har- 
ried, their  helpless  merchant  commerce  sunk.^^ 
They  had  traditions,  something  up  to  which  they 
had  to  live  and  die;  they  did  it  to  the  everlast- 
ing glory  of  their  lives!  To  quote  Mr.  Paine, 
"The  daily  drudgery  of  mine  sweeping  is  the  risk- 
iest game  of  the  war  by  land  or  sea.  It  is  safer  by 
60  per  cent,  as  the  proportionate  percentage  of 
casualties  shows,  to  be  in  the  front-line  trenches 
than  to  stick  to  this  job  of  the  North  Sea  trawler. 
Their  honour  roll  of  dead  is  long  and  tragic,  and  on 


102  BEA^nry-VTEttlCOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

it  you  will  read  the  names  of  ship  after  ship  of 
which  there  were  no  survivors  to  tell  how  the 
quick  finish  came."  A  poem,  written  in  England 
by  a  North  Sea  man,  is  most  appropriate,  to 
further  quote: 

"Little  trawler,  little  trawler, 

Ah,  so  black  against  the  sky, 
With  your  sides  all  torn  and  battered 

And  your  jBag  but  half-mast  high. 
Did  your  voyage  fail  to  prosper?" 

Cried  the  little  trawler,  "No; 
We  went  out  and  did  our  duty. 
But  the  skipper  lies  below.*' 

"Little  trawler,  little  trawler, 

With  the  quaint  old  English  name. 
Did  the  little  ships  before  you 

Ever  join  in  such  a  game.?" 
"Well,  I've  heard  my  mother  tell  me," 

Said  the  trawler,  "long  ago. 
That  Lord  Howard  had  to  use  'em 

Just  as  much  as  Jellicoe." 

And  so  the  entire  American  Battle  Squadron  looked 
reverently  in  admiration  at  the  myriads  of  trawlers 
at  the  nets  and  our  patrol,  as  we  passed  through 
the  opened  gates  to  the  sea.  On  our  first  inde- 
pendent exploit  the  gods  must  have  been  with  us. 
Not  until  we  had  weathered  the  months  of  storms 
which  were  to  follow  did  we  appreciate  the  fortune 
of  it  for  our  navigation.  In  the  mountains  of 
Montana  and  New  Hampshire  I  have  seen  such 
nights  as  that  of  our  departure,  but  never  near  the 


BACKING  BEATTY  103 

sea.  The  atmosphere  was  crystal  clear,  seeming 
to  magnify  each  star  a  dozen  times.  The  sea 
glowed  with  their  lumination.  Then,  on  the  first 
hour  of  the  mid-watch,  the  north  burst  into  a 
brilliant  arc  of  light  and  moving  streamers.  A 
magnificent  display  of  the  aurora  horealis  followed, 
rolling  its  curtains  of  delicate  fire  across  a  setting 
of  reflected  brilliancy.  Against  this  arc  our  escort 
of  destroyers  stood  out  silhouetted  sharply  black, 
and  it  occurred  to  us  what  huge  and  ideal  targets 
we  would  make  for  an  invisible  submarine  which 
might  be  lying  to  the  southward.  We  neither 
heard  nor  saw  a  single  object.  It  was  not  until 
next  day,  after  we  had  successfully  picked  up  our 
plodding  12-knot  convoy,  zigzagged  and  circled 
it,  obtained  our  information  and  flanked  it  on  the 
south  that  we  had  our  first  encounter  with  a  Ger- 
man submarine.  Shortly  past  noon  our  bow  de- 
stroyer, well  ahead,  commenced  firing  rapidly  and 
then  released  two  depth  charges.  We  were  loaded 
in  an  instant,  and  waiting.  The  boiling  water  from 
the  depth-charge  shock  revealed  no  wreckage  as  we 
passed  close  to  them  but  the  "sub"  had  been  at 
least  prevented  from  harming  us.  The  destroyer 
reported  it  had  fired  on  a  diving  periscope. 

Next  day  we  struck  it  far  more  lively.  Morn- 
ing found  us  ploughing  into  a  dense  fog  and  very 
near  the  coast  of  Norway.  The  mist  was  slow  to 
rise  but  finally  revealed  the  coast  against  a  wall  of 
snow-capped  mountains  backing  up  its  jagged  cliffs 


104  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

and  fjords.  The  sight  of  that  strange  land  brought 
with  it  the  first  reahzation  of  the  peril  which  threat- 
ened our  situation.  There  we  were,  four  battle- 
ships, alone  save  for  a  light  protective  screen,  with 
the  entire  German  High  Seas  Fleet  five  hours  nearer 
than  our  closest  reinforcements,  and  with  their 
seven  twenty-eight  knot  battle  cruisers — ^who 
knew  where  .f^  With  whatever  we  might  engage 
we  must  cling  to  them,  as  long  as  our  teeth  would 
hold,  hoping  for  summoned  reinforcements.  If  not 
annihilated  we  must  have  been  well  knocked  about. 
Yet  the  British  had  risked  their  squadrons,  week 
after  week,  and  the  best  that  had  come  out  to 
threaten  them  were  enemy  light  cruisers.  Some  of 
the  Hun's  philosophy  will  long  remain  unf  athomed. 
At  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  promptly  on  a 
secret  schedule,  we  picked  up  the  returning  convoy 
to  the  north'ard,  bound  for  England.  As  we  de- 
ployed to  the  southeast  on  our  appointed  duty, 
there  seemed  for  us  a  dull  afternoon  ahead.  The 
weather  furnished  no  excitement,  and  as  yet  no 
Hun.  Our  gun  crews  tired  of  their  never-ending 
watches,  and  had  begun  to  look  forward,  as  usual, 
to  the  eventful  twilight.  For  Longfellow  might 
well  have  revised  his  twilight  lines  for  these  North 
Sea  evenings  to: 

Between  the  dark  and  the  daylight. 
When  the  clouds  are  beginning  to  lower. 
Comes  the  height  of  the  day's  preparations 
Which  is  known  as  the  Submarine's  hour. 


A  Sea  of  Thought 

Admiral  Sims  and  Admiral  Rodman  "  talking  it  ov^er  "  on  the 
quarterdeck  of  the  New  York 


Admiral  Jellicoe  off  Duty 

The  Admiral  is  in  civilian  garb  (in  the  gray  coat)  a  guest  of 
Admiral  Burney  for  tea 


A  Bit  of  Fireworks  for  the  King  and  Queen  of  Belgium 

Struck  by  lightning,  the  big  kite  balloon  floating  over  the  New  York  caught 
fire,  and  fell  into  the  water  niear  the  dreadnaught  just  as  King  Albert  and 
Queen  Elizabeth  were  coming  aboard. 


A  Snapshot  for  the  Queen's  Collection 
Queen  Elizabeth  of  Belgium  snaps  a  picture  on  the  deck  of  the  Neiv  York 


The  Flagship  at  Attention 
During  the  inspection  by  King  Albert  and  Queen  Elizabeth  of  Belgium 


BACKING  BEATTY  105 

This  time,  however,  we  had  broad  daylight,  with 
the  weather  fair.  Strangely  enough,  in  spite  of 
every  posted  lookout,  it  was  Admiral  Rodman  him- 
self who  first  observed  the  approaching  danger. 
From  the  bridge  below  I  heard  him  call  his  Chief- 
of -Staff,  point  out  a  strange  black  object  off  the 
starboard  bow.  Almost  simultaneously  the  word 
was  passed  by  lookout.  Before  the  voice  tubes 
brought  it  from  control,  the  gun  at  which  I  stood 
had  come  to  bear  upon  it.  Then  a — ''  Load !  Train 
30!  German  submarine!"  came  down.  A  rush 
of  air,  the  bumping  shell,  the  breech-click — ready! 
One  breathless  second  seemed  to  pass  before 
"Range  2720;  scale  55''  came  down  the  tube. 
We  lacked  the  last  words :  "  Commence  firing."  The 
pointer  and  the  trainer  both  were  shouting  "Mark! 
Mark!"  as  their  gun  mouthed  hungrily,  bearing 
on  its  prey.  Seconds  were  precious;  the  delay 
must  be  fatal.  Next  instant  we  grasped  the 
reason,  and  my  temper  fell.  Our  bow  destroyer, 
jumping  like  a  pouncing  tiger,  had  lifted  her  keen 
bows  clear  out  of  water  in  a  mass  of  foam  before 
her  thirty  knots.  Thrusting  between  us  and  the 
submarine,  she  hurled  herself  upon  the  foe.  Sec- 
onds only  were  between  them  as  the  latter  dived. 
A  dull  vibration  shook  the  ship  and  tore  the  sea  to 
bits  as  the  first  depth  charge  exploded.  As  re- 
feree, we  would  have  called  the  duel  off.  But 
scarcely  was  this  episode  completed,  when  Florida, 
in  line  abreast  to  starboard,  took  up  the  game.     Her 


106    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

siren  shrieked  a  warning  as  she  jammed  her  helm 
to  port,  nearly  grazing  the  Wyoming's  stern.  The 
torpedo  shot  across  her  bows,  missed,  sped  on  to 
obhvion.  Signals  flew.  The  shutters  of  our  search- 
Hghts  clattered  ceaselessly,  backed  by  a  mass 
of  floating  bunting  at  the  yardarms.  Convoy, 
escort,  cruisers,  were  informed  of  the  impending 
danger,  warned  against  it.  Round  two  had  ended ! 
Then  Delaware  stepped  into  the  ring.  Suddenly, 
with  that  same  ungodly  siren  shriek  she  wheeled 
180°  to  starboard.  Her  five-inch  battery  an- 
nounced that  she  had  found  no  phantom  foe;  but 
firing  would  not  stop  the  two  pale  greenish  streaks 
diverging  through  the  water  toward  her  bows. 
They  cleared  her,  but  the  narrow  margin  left  a  sour 
taste  in  all  their  mouths  for  days.  She  sped  on 
down  before  the  wind  away  from  us,  great  volumes 
of  dense  black  piling  up  above  her  by  forced 
draught.  The  admiral  altered  course  to  north- 
'ard,  and  soon  the  flying  Delaware,  with  her  two 
faithful  destroyers,  swung  back  full  speed  to  join 
her  jolted  squadron.  On  arrival  at  our  base. 
Admiral  Rodman  dispatched  a  letter  to  Captain 
Scales  of  the  Delaware: 

"The  Division  Commander  wishes  to  express  his 
high  appreciation  of  the  vigilance  exercised  and 
the  prompt  and  skilled  manner  in  which  the 
Delaware  was  handled  on  February  8th  off  the 
Norwegian  coast,  owing  to  which  you  avoided  two 
torpedoes  fired  at  the  ship  at  short  range  by  an 


BACKING  BEATTY  107 

enemy  submarine.  It  was  an  excellent  example 
of  preparedness  and  efficiency,  and  is  most  heartily 
commended." 

As  the  details  were  assembled  on  our  homeward 
way,  by  signal,  it  became  apparent  that  a  delib- 
erate trap  had  been  laid  for  the  squadron  by  enemy 
submarines.  Clearly  the  failure  of  this  well  plan- 
ned attack  showed  us  that  the  torpedo  Is  not  a 
weapon  to  be  greatly  feared  by  vessels  of  our  type 
travelling  at  high  speed.  Some  Indication  of 
that  confidence  and  scorn  which  the  British  had 
acquired  could  be  noticed  in  our  ship  as  we  left 
the  danger  of  attack  astern. 

On  to  our  base  we  plied  our  way,  circling  and 
scouting  for  two  more  days.  Lack  of  sleep  told  on 
all  hands,  particularly  the  gun  crews  whose  long 
schedule  of  watches  had  permitted  but  brief 
snatches  of  sleep.  On  the  night  watches  those 
tough  lads  stumbled  and  mumbled  in  their  weari- 
ness, but  stuck,  always  stuck.  The  remorseful  bits 
of  tell-tale  wreckage,  spars,  and  strange  floating 
objects  of  which  the  war-time  North  Sea  was  so 
full  proved  the  sole  diversion  for  the  gunners. 
They  tried  their  best  to  make  them  Into  sub- 
marines, pleaded  to  open  fire.  Always  their 
object  disappeared  astern.  As  we  entered  Scapa 
Flow  on  the  morning  of  February  tenth,  a  collier, 
hovering  like  an  evil  spirit  at  the  anchorage  of  each 
ship,  gave  us  scarce  time  to  catch  our  breath  be- 
fore we  plunged  into  filth  and  soot.     The  admiral 


108    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

shoved  off  at  once  for  the  Queen  Elizabeth  to  report 
his  operation  successfully  accomplished,  and  per- 
haps it  was  the  realization  of  our  first  actual  ser- 
vice that  kept  those  dog-tired  sailors  shovelling  ^ 
hauling,  plugging.     For  it  was  Sunday. 

Twice  again  we  shielded  convoys,  on  trips  far 
different  than  the  first.  On  these,  as  nearly  every 
other  time  we  ventured  out,  we  were  beset  by 
North  Sea  gales,  and  drenched  throughout  the 
voyages.  A  few  days'  diary  of  one  trip  will  reveal 
the  nature  of  both. 

Friday,  March  8th — Scapa  Flow. 
Bleak  and  blowy  morning.  After  continued 
sanding  our  decks  begin  to  look  as  they  did  before 
we  docked.  Second  Battle  Squadron  stood  in 
after  convoy  duty.  Our  turn  next — ^the  awful 
grind  to  Norway  and  return.  Flashing  bunting 
on  the  acting  flagship  Revenge  put  us  on  short  no- 
tice for  steam,  with  orders.  We  steal  out  at  mid- 
night. All  afternoon  securing  for  sea,  checking, 
reporting,  dogging  down.  Battle  stations  sounded 
before  twelve — ^a  drag  to  reach  the  deck  from  a 
sound  sleep. 

Saturday,  March  Oth,  at  sea. 
Wind  increased  to  gale.     Squadron  seems  des- 
tined to  worst  weather  of  the  North  Sea.     Turned 
us    topsy-turvy.     Compensation    is    comparative 
immunity  from  submarine  attack.     Convoy  not 


BACKING  BEATTY  109 

picked  up.  Wind  increased  all  forenoon;  blowing 
90  at  noon.  Slowed  down  16-14-12-10-8-6-4  knots 
to  save  our  smothering  destroyers.  Green  seas 
foaming  over  us.  Florida  steering-gear  jammed, 
forced  delay.  Our  port  signal  bridge  carried  in. 
Increased  creaking  and  groaning  of  the  ship  as 
strain  begins  to  tell  heavily. 

Sunday,  March  10th,  at  sea. 
Gale  held  up  to  60  with  a  bad  outlook.  Every- 
thing drenched.  Scud,  driving  across  a  brilliant 
moon,  gave  fantastic  effects  on  the  gleaming 
sea,  glorious  in  her  fury.  The  convoy,  bucking 
the  northeaster,  had  to  slow  way  down.  Sea- 
worthiness of  destroyers  exhibited  on  180°  turn. 
Buried  completely.  Thought  one  gone  as  a  sea 
broke  over  her  in  a  gaping  valley,  but  she  was  up 
like  a  cork.  Set  the  table  at  dinner  for  the  first 
time,  ate  ravenously.  Fired  on  submarine  with 
depth  charges  at  six  thirty. 

Monday,  March  11th,  at  sea. 
Up  at  midnight  with  a  24-hour  span  of  duty 
ahead.  Had  slept  as  dead  in  spite  of  pitching. 
Came  under  the  coast  of  Norway  in  the  morning 
and  as  the  gale  abated  ran  into  a  dense  fog  bank. 
Through  a  mistaken  signal  we  barely  avoided 
crashing  into  a  destroyer,  then  into  Florida.  Cut 
her  towing-spar.  Cruised  northward  on  the  Nor- 
wegian coast  all  afternoon,  delivered  the  40-vessel 


110    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

convoy  to  Bergen  and  started  home  with  the  re- 
turn fleet  for  England. 

The  second  great  duty  which  fell  to  the  lot  of  the 
squadrons  of  the  Grand  Fleet  was  their  part  in 
accomplishing  that  greatest  of  all  defensive  naval 
operations,  the  North  Sea  mine  barrage.  It  is 
wonderful  to  think  of,  while  in  its  actual  accom- 
plishment is  too  stupendous  for  the  mind  to  grasp. 
It  was  an  American  idea,  urged,  developed,  and 
executed  mainly  by  Americans.  To  trap  the  en- 
emy near  his  den,  to  hem  him  in — that  was  its 
purpose.  But  its  magnitude!  To  plant  a  field  of 
mines  across  the  North  Sea,  from  Scotland  to  Nor- 
way, a  distance  of  230  miles,  was  the  plan.  Few 
thought  it  possible,  for  the  water  ranges  300  to 
900  feet  in  depth.  We  had  no  mines  nor  mine- 
layers to  speak  of,  small  experienced  personnel, 
and  frightful  weather  to  contend  with,  aside  from 
contact  with  the  enemy  and  the  usual  hazards  of 
mine-laying.  The  order  came  to  "go  ahead"  and 
the  venture  started.  It  involved  the  use  of  60,000 
tons  of  shipping  for  five  months,  the  establishment 
of  two  great  naval  bases,  and  the  manufacture 
of  thousands  and  thousands  of  mines.  There  was 
no  time  to  waste.  Eight  merchant  ships  were  con- 
verted, which,  with  the  San  Francisco  and  the 
Baltimore,  manned  by  crews  which  had  been  es- 
pecially and  intensively  trained  in  mine-laying, 
under  command  of  Captain  R.  R.  Belknap,  were 
sent  to  lay  the  North  Sea  mine  barrage. 


BACKING  BEATTY  111 

The  mine  field  virtually  would  contain  six  chains 
of  submarine  mines,  stretched  from  coast  to  coast. 
With  an  output  of  1,000  inines  a  day,  and  five  days 
allowed  for  mine-laying  operations,  the  aggregate 
capacity  of  the  squadron  should  be  5,000  mines,  to 
meet  the  basic  output.  Actually,  the  capacity 
of  the  squadron  was  5,700.  Finally  the  moment 
to  commence  the  task  of  laying  mines  arrived. 
Could  they  do  it.?^  The  Grand  Fleet  said  "We 
hope  so,"  although  as  soon  as  the  barrier  should 
bring  results,  there  would  be  German  opposition* 

Shielding  mine-layers  was  not  new  work  to  the 
Grand  Fleet.  We  had  protected  British  squadrons 
at  their  work.  This  promised  greater  things,  for 
we  were  to  use  the  American  squadron  as  bait 
to  draw  the  High  Seas  Fleet,  as  well  as  for  mine- 
laying.  One  shielding  squadron  was  detailed  to 
each  mine-laying  trip,  and  early  in  June  our  first 
turn  fell  due.  Writes  Captain  Belknap,  com- 
mander of  the  mine  force:  "On  the  second  excur- 
sion, in  June,  our  own  battleships,  under  Rear 
Admiral  Rodman  in  the  New  York,  were  the  sup- 
port, making  a  proud  sight  for  us  as  the  great 
squadron  filed  out  and  swept  off  toward  an  inter- 
cepting station."  It  was  a  proud  sight  for  us,  as 
well,  to  see  the  Stars  and  Stripes  on  that  great 
mining  squadron.  With  the  change  of  season 
we  encountered  less  bad  weather  on  these  mining 
trips,  but  correspondingly  more  submarines.  We 
were  towing  kite  balloons  at  all  times  when  at  sea> 


112  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

however,  which  always  gave  us  warning  in  time  to 
dodge,  and  our  destroyers  basis  for  attack.  Gradu- 
ally the  great  nets  hemmed  the  "  tin  fish  "  in.  Thir- 
teen excursions  by  the  American  Mining  Squad- 
ron and  eleven  by  the  British,  laid  some  70,000 
mines,  four-fifths  of  which  were  ours.  The  work 
began  to  bring  results,  although  the  losses  prob" 
ably  never  will  be  fully  known.  The  Germans 
admit  the  loss  of  twenty-three  submarines  in  that 
barrage,  while  more  are  claimed.  The  British 
Admiralty  believe  the  submarine  campaign  was 
broken  up  by  the  barrage,  which  was  in  fact  a 
large  contributor  to  the  great  end. 

The  brilliant  operations  against  Zeebrugge  and 
Ostend  by  the  forces  in  Dover,  marked  April  as  a 
month  of  new  hope  and  expectation.  On  the 
morning  of  the  24th,  after  standing  by  at  one  hour 
notice  for  steam  on  the  22d  and  23d,  not  knowing 
what  to  expect,  we  suddenly  put  to  sea.  It  was  a 
vast  fleet  that  left  the  Firth  of  Forth  that  day,  for 
it  comprised  our  entire  forces  large  and  small. 
Mist  and  heavy  weather  greeted  us  outside,  as 
we  headed  straight  across  the  sea.  Our  orders 
were  to  intercept  any  attempt  that  might  be  made 
by  German  cruisers,  or  the  High  Seas  Fleet,  to 
rush  to  the  assistance  of  Zeebrugge.  Eighty-five 
miles  north  of  the  attack  we  took  our  post,  and 
guessed  the  danger  almost  to  perfection.  The 
German  cruisers  ventured  out  and  our  advance 
screen  made  a  twenty-mile  contact  with  their  own. 


Rear  Admiral  Hugh  Rodman,  U.S.N.,  K.C.B. 

Commander  of  the  American  Battle  Squadron,  Grand  Fleet 

(Autographed  for  the  Author  shortly  after  Surrender  of  the  German  Fleet) 


^^^^^^^^^H^                   yjm 

""^^^X.           ..^m^ 

Bl 

IH 

JiJ^I 

p^j 

w  "^   1 

g^^H^I 

hnwrtL         JB 

On  the  Neiv  York's  Quarterdeck 
The  Commander-in-Chief  twice  shows  his  winning  smile 


BACKING  BEATTY  118 

Full  speed  ahead !  The  day  held  promise.  A  huge 
Zeppelin  of  their  scouting  force  was  sighted  from 
Repulse^  and  then  it  turned  and  fled.  Too  much 
had  it  seen,  for  the  Germans  at  once  opened  out 
for  Kiel,  with  all  the  speed  they  had.  We  followed 
to  their  mine  fields,  but  the  raid  had  ended,  and  our 
work  was  done.  We  turned  our  heads  for  home 
and,  stretching  in  single  column,  the  Grand  Fleet 
measured  seventy-three  miles  long!  Not  until 
the  messages,  announcing  the  success  of  this  most 
daring  naval  feat  of  all  time,  began  to  flash  by 
wireless  to  us  as  we  steamed  for  home,  did  any 
but  the  high  commands  know  what  our  exploit 
had  accomplished.  We  presumed  it  had  been  just 
another  false  alarm.  But  when  the  news  of  how 
the  gallant  Dover  force  had  actually  "twisted  the 
dragon's  tail,"  in  such  audacious  manner  was  read 
off  in  our  mess  room,  the  cheers  that  went  up  shook 
our  very  frames.  A  doubt  continues  to  exist  in  some 
quarters  as  to  the  value  of  the  operations  against 
Zeebrugge.  Did  the  gain  justify  the  sacrifice  of 
life?  I  am  quoting  Captain  Carpenter  who  com- 
manded the  Vindictive  at  Zeebrugge  when  I  say  that 
for  three  months,  dating  from  that  raid  in  April, 
not  a  single  submarine  passed  through  the  channel 
at^Zeebrugge,  which  is  the  only  practical  outlet  from 
the  greatest  German  submarine  base  at  Bruges. 
The  value  of  such  achievement  is  inestimable. 

The  greatest  sport,  the  finest  drill,  and  yet  the 
hardest  work  we  had  came  while  at  sea  on  opera- 


114    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

tions  known  as  "Pee  Zeds."  At  least  once  each 
month,  without  warning  and  suddenly  enough  to 
put  us  all  on  edge,  we  fought  an  "action"  some- 
where in  the  North  Sea.  The  forces  basing  at 
Scapa,  and  the  forces  basing  at  Rosyth  would  put 
to  sea  by  prearrangement,  simultaneously.  An 
area,  designated  as  "P.  Z."  was  selected  as  a  gen- 
eral place  of  action,  and  toward  this  the  two  sec- 
tions made  their  way.  Usually  the  battleship  force 
came  from  the  north,  the  battle  cruisers  and  the 
5th  Battle  Squadron  from  the  south.  One  force 
were  the  "Reds,"  the  other  the  "Blues."  Neither 
knew  the  other's  tactics  or  deployment,  when  they 
would  make  contact,  or  how  they  would  attack. 
Each  simply  knew  the  other  force  was  "out." 
Down  to  the  last  detail  of  gunfire  and  casualty 
drill  were  those  engagements  carried  out,  some- 
times lasting  for  two  days.  Smoke  screens,  air- 
planes, submarines,  destroyers  and  even  sub-calibre 
shells  were  used,  and  each  attack  had  to  be  met 
or  yielded  to.  Deployment,  natural  advantages, 
time  of  firing  and  efficiency  at  the  guns  were  all 
considered  in  a  lengthy  analysis,  and  by  the  actual 
performances  one  side  or  other  were  declared  the 
victors.  Sometimes  it  meant  continuous  watches, 
day  and  night,  for  these  were  real  battle  condi- 
tions. Though  the  expense  of  these  excursions 
actually  involved  millions  of  dollars,  it  proved 
a  good  investment  for  the  Allied  cause.  The 
Grand  Fleet  wore  their  stage  fright  off,  and  came 


BACKING  BEATTY  115 

to  know  the  North  Sea  "fore  and  aft,'  up  and 
down,  in  every  sort  of  weather. 

Of  all  the  jobs  that  took  us  out  to  sea,  we  dis- 
Hked  most  that  call  that  lasted  to  the  very  end, 
the  "false  alarm."  During  the  first  few  months 
we  welcomed  them,  for  each  call  seemed  to  be  the 
real  one — thrilled  us  as  we  sailed  to  meet  the  Hun 
at  last!  Wild  rumours  always  flew  about,  from^ 
"the  entire  High  Seas  Fleet  is  waiting  just  outside 
in  Pentland  Firth"  to  "It's  just  a  little  destroyer 
scrap  in  the  bight."  Always,  after  our  screen  had 
scoured  the  sea  and  after  we  had  stood  for  endless 
hours  on  watch,  that  hope-destroying  signal  would 
flash  back  from  Beatty's  flagship — "Return  to 
Base!"  One  of  these  "false  alarm"  exploits  is 
particularly  amusing  and  brought  about  a  most 
remarkable  result.  We  had  just  arrived  at  Scapa 
on  the  morning  of  October  13th,  as  a  squadron, 
having  left  the  rest  of  the  Grand  Fleet  at  Rosyth. 
We  were  to  spend  the  week  at  target  practice  in 
the  Pentland  Firth.  At  ten  o'clock  that  evening 
rumours  of  the  hair-raising  type  began  to  filter 
down,  and  when  at  midnight  we  were  put  on  in- 
stant steaming  notice,  things  looked  promising.  I 
turned  in  with  one  eye  open.  The  next  I  knew 
our  general  alarm  banged  out.  On  deck  in  twenty 
seconds,  to  find  it  two  a.  m.  and  the  squadron  do- 
ing fourteen  knots  for  the  Atlantic!  Three  Ger- 
man battle  cruisers  were  reported  by  the  subma- 
rine patrols  to  have  passed  out  on  a  raiding  expe- 


116  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS  AND  RODMAN 

dition  to  cut  off  a  huge  convoy  which  we  knew 
was  bound  for  Archangel.  And  the  gods  of 
Chance  had  placed  our  squadron  here  in  the  north 
alone  to  meet  them,  cut  them  off  and  take  full 
glory  if  we  succeeded  in  the  operation.  At  four 
o'clock  we  put  on  twenty  knots  and  stood  for  the 
channel  between  the  Shetlands  and  the  Orkneys, 
directly  in  the  cruisers'  supposed  path.  At  day- 
break all  guns  were  loaded,  manned  for  action. 
All  hands  were  on  their  toes — afraid  to  hope  too 
daringly.  Four  submarine  warnings  came  in  from 
the  patrols  shortly  after  daybreak,  which  made  us 
doubly  watchful.  We  reached  the  Channel  at 
ten  and  cruised  and  waited  hopefully  until  well 
past  noon,  tense,  quiet,  straining  every  sense. 
Then,  like  a  bubble,  the  whole  exploit  burst. 
At  two  o'clock  a  wireless  flashed  from  the  main 
body  of  the  fleet:  "Abandon  search;  return  to  base." 
As  the  tension  snapped  and  let  us  down  to  where 
we  felt  our  weariness,  those  submarine  patrols 
of  ours  received  the  choicest  lot  of  appellations  I 
have  ever  heard  applied  to  thing  or  being!  But 
there  was  yet  one  more  surprise  in  store. 

We  steamed  down  through  the  Orkney  Islands, 
to  enter  Pentland  Firth  from  the  northeast.  Few 
ships  ever  used  that  channel,  for  it  led  to  no  objec- 
tive. In  column  we  passed  the  rugged  headlands, 
were  about  to  turn  into  the  firth,  when  bump, 
bump,  bump!  The  great  ship  trembled  at  the 
shock  of  impact,  and  the  navigator  jumped  to 


BACKING  BEATTY  117 

reach  his  chart.  Twenty-five  fathoms  clear,  with- 
out a  rock  or  bar!  The  helmsman  at  once  re- 
ported a  change  in  the  ship's  behaviour,  but  the 
captain  had  already  felt  it  as  he  paced  the  bridge. 
"Admiral,"  he  said,  "there's  something  wrong 
with  our  starboard  propeller.  We've  hit  some- 
thing, out  there,  though  God  knows  what."  Five 
minutes  later  we  veered  out  of  column,  slowed 
down  and  limped  to  port.  Divers  were  over  as 
soon  as  the  anchor,  and  to  their  amazement  found 
one  blade  of  the  starboard  screw  completely 
sheered,  another  deeply  gouged,  and  a  long,  in- 
dented streak  carved  on  our  underbody.  The 
admiral  hauled  down  his  flag,  moved,  with  his 
staflF,  to  the  Wyoming.  The  New  York  was  listed 
"Out  of  action." 

Three  days  afterward  we  were  in  the  dry  dock  at 
Rosyth,  nursing  our  wound.  The  board  of  inves- 
tigation of  the  British  Admiralty  had  met,  gath- 
ered up  the  evidence,  and  submitted  a  report  in 
which  it  was  stated  that,  on  consideration  of  the 
evidence  furnished  by  its  trawlers,  and  that  pre- 
sented by  the  marks  and  damage  on  the  New  York's 
hull;  of  the  opinions  rendered  by  reliable  witnesses; 
of  the  location  and  time  of  the  incident;  of  the 
depth  of  water  and  absence  of  any  object  on  the 
surface;  the  board  had  concluded  that  the  New 
York  had  rammed,  unawares,  an  enemy  observa- 
tion submarine  that  had  been  stationed  in  the 
Channel  north  of  the  routes  employed  by  Grand 


118  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

Fleet  ships,  but  within  sight  of  all  their  move- 
ments. Further,  it  was  concluded  that  the  force 
of  impact  must  have  sunk  whatever  we  collided 
with,  and  so  the  New  York  was  officially  accredited 
with  a  German  submarine.  And  Admiral  Rodman 
thus  reported  to  the  Navy  Department  at  Wash- 
ington. 

That  sortie  in  the  North  was  destined  to  be  the 
squadron's  last  operation,  except  the  Great  One. 
At  that  time  the  end  of  hostilities  seemed  nowhere 
in  sight  to  us;  we  looked  at  least  a  year  ahead. 
Yet  hardly  more  than  a  month  had  passed  when 
we  sailed  forth  to  the  tragic  end  of  Germany's  sin- 
ister dream  of  Sea  Power.  There,  before  our  very 
eyes,  after  four  long  years  of  waiting,  the  cowardly 
dogs  gave  up  without  a  show  of  manliness,  without 
an  intimation  that  a  drop  of  red  blood  flowed  in 
their  veins!  Who  else  would  have  done  it. ^^  Those 
marvellous  ships,  those  thousands  of  men!  Has 
any  nation,  however  small,  ever  committed  so 
colossal  an  act  of  cowardice?    No ! 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR 

AN    INSIGHT  INTO    THE    LIFE,    WORK,    AND    CHARACTER- 
ISTICS OF  THE  AMERICAN    BLUEJACKET 

With  everything  that  in  him  is — 
By  day  or  night  ifs  just  the  same — 

He'll  stand  behind  you  to  the  last. 
If  you  will  only  play  the  game. 

Funny  name  and  funny  ideas. 

Has  your  salty  friend  the  Gob, 
But  he'll  die  for  you  a-smiling 
If  you* re  *^ white'*  and  on  the  job, 

Lieut.  Comdr.  E.  E.  Wilson, 
U.  S.  N. 

WHAT  about  the  gobs?  What  is  a  gob? 
They  do  him  wrong  who  pass  the  Amer- 
ican bluejacket  over  as  the  dereUct 
combed  from  the  beaches,  the  refugees  from  society 
who  have  sought  to  hide  from  the  civiUzation  they 
have  known.  Association  with  the  lads  who  man 
our  ships  of  war  soon  dispels  this  all  too  often  drawn 
conclusion.  True,  the  average  gob  is  a  rough  cus- 
tomer. He  parted  with  his  social  position  the  mo- 
ment he  boarded  his  ship.  But  aboard  ship  he  has 
reentered  society,  a  new  society  in  a  new  world. 
More  so  than  ever  before  has  this  fact  been  em- 

119 


120  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

phasized  in  the  Great  War,  when  men  who  had 
joined  the  United  States  Naval  Reserve  force  to 
serve  on  the  sea  flocked  to  the  naval  life.  From 
the  forty-eight  states  they  came,  and  from  all  our 
colonies,  out  of  every  walk  of  life.  To  their  amaze- 
ment they  ran  against  a  hard  stone  wall.  The  new 
life,  the  life  of  the  sea,  has  none  of  the  refinements 
of  the  land.  It  is  shockingly  point-blank.  It  per- 
mits no  luxuries,  few  comforts.  There  is  a  strug- 
gle for  survival  that  lasts  through  twenty-four 
hours  each  day.  The  resultant  manhood  is  man- 
hood without  veneer,  hard  inside  and  out,  fearing 
nothing,  hoping  everything,  and  ready  to  work, 
work,  work. 

So  accustomed  does  the  bluejacket  become  to  his 
strange,  life,  that  when  ashore  he  seldom  speaks  of 
it.  On  land  we  hear  of  the  great  moments  of  the 
sailor's  life — ^the  shores  of  foreign  lands,  the  great- 
ness of  his  ship,  the  storm,  the  girls  of  his  ports, 
his  amusements;  in  short,  the  crests  of  his  waves. 
Scarcely  at  all  do  we  know  his  real  life,  for  he  deems 
it  not  unusual.  But  the  rookie  feels  it,  and  knows 
he's  up  against  it.  To  give  a  vivid  flash  of  the  life 
of  a  gob  at  sea  in  the  war,  I  can  do  no  better  than 
to  quote  the  expression  of  one  who  has  undergone 
the  strange  metamorphosis  from  land-lubber  to 
seaman:  "The  gob  faces  no  easy  undertaking.  He 
is  not  called  upon  immediately  to  sacrifice  his  life 
and  be  a  hero.  He  is  called  upon  instead  to  man 
a  squilgee — of  which  he  never  heard  before — ^and 


THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR  Ul 

scrub  decks;  to  part  with  the  skin  of  his  feet  in  the 
lye-water  with  which  the  operation  is  occasionally 
performed.  He  coals  ship  until  his  unaccustomed 
back  aches  with  the  weight  of  heavy  baskets  and 
his  lungs  smart  with  dust.  He  is  clumsy.  He  is 
'bawled  out'  and  his  feelings  are  injured.  At  night 
he  falls  out  of  his  hammock,  to  the  inexpressible 
delight  of  more  experienced  aviators  peering  from 
their  suspended  canvas  Zeppelins.  Seldom  can 
he  even  laugh  with  the  crowd,  for  what  is  there 
funny  in  the  fact  that  he  should  spend  hours  seek- 
ing the  individual  with  the  key  to  the  anchor  watch, 
or  run  afoul  of  the  officer  of  the  deck  and  appeal 
to  him  for  assistances^" 

Thus  the  American  bluejacket  went  to  the  busi- 
ness of  war,  in  a  world  of  his  own  with  his  own 
ways,  and  very  generally  by  his  own  choosing. 
What  he  did  there,  and  the  way  in  which  he  did  it 
will  be  eulogized  through  the  ages.  "It  had  been 
brought  home  to  every  individual,"  writes  Captain 
Belknap  of  the  North  Sea  mine  force,  "that  his 
work  could  be  done  by  only  one  man  in  the  world." 
We  may  very  aptly  apply  this  explanation  of  their 
achievement  to  the  entire  forces  of  the  United 
States  navy  serving  in  European  waters.  For 
upon  the  unquenchable  optimism  and  the  real  work 
of  the  American  gob,  the  success  of  our  navy  in  the 
World  War  was  founded  and  built.  They  had  the 
stuff,  those  gobs;  they  used  it.  Elsewhere  the 
achievements  of  the  battleship  men  are  pointed 


122  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

out,  but  before  reverting  to  sidelights  on  the  char- 
acter and  customs  of  our  gobs  it  is  interesting  to 
catch  a  gUmpse  of  him  in  our  submarine  patrol 
fleet.  Two  letters  written  by  a  member  of  the 
crew  of  the  patrol  yacht  Corsair y  furnish  character- 
istic glimpses  of  what  the  men  of  these  craft  en- 
countered: 

December,  21,  1917. 

I  have  just  been  closer  to  the  Great  Adventure  than  I 
ever  care  to  come  again  without  seeing  dear  old  New  York 
once  more.  We  got  caught  in  a  gale  that  prevented  our  re- 
turn to  port  and  had  to  fly  before  it  for  three  days,  finally 
reaching  Vigo,  Spain,  at  a  time  when  the  engineer  said  we 
could  only  remain  afloat  three  hours  longer.  We  remained 
there  but  eight  hours,  long  enough  to  make  temporary  re- 
pairs, and  then  had  to  fly  again  to  prevent  om*  being  interned 
till  ajpres  la  guerre. 

For  three  days  and  nights  I  neither  slept  nor  ate.  All 
of  us  were  in  the  same  fix,  lashing  and  securing,  working 
the  pumps  and  praying  that  we  would  come  through  it  all 
safely. 

I  lived  ten  hours  at  a  pace  that  counted  for  ten  years,  the 
most  tense  moment  of  my  life  being  when,  while  the  seas 
were  breaking  over  us  and  we  were  crawling  about  the  deck 
holding  fast  to  everything  that  seemed  fixed,  looking  for  a 
hatch  cover  that  had  become  unfastened,  we  suddenly  dis- 
covered that  six  mines  had  become  unloosed  and  were  lurch- 
ing about,  butting  the  bulwarks  with  every  roll  of  the  ship. 
These  mines  are  controlled  by  the  paying  out  of  wire,  and 
when  a  certain  amount  becomes  uncoiled  they  automatically 
explode.  As  no  man  knew  just  how  much  wire  had  become 
unmeshed,  we  all  had  to  work  fast  heaving  them  overboard. 
They  went  "pop,  pop,  pop,"  as  quickly  as  champagne  corks 


THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR  ns 

at  a  French  ball,  and  how  we  ever  escaped  blowing  off  our 
own  stern  is  still  regarded  as  a  marvel  by  us  all. 

Another  letter  relates  to  encounters  with  Ger- 
man submarines.  The  first  had  been  attacking  a 
sailing  vessel  when  the  patrol  hurried  to  the  scene 
of  action,  ten  miles  distant.  As  they  approached, 
the  submarine  submerged,  and  he  writes : 

We  were  soon  amid  the  rushing  of  the  turbulent  water 
that  is  caused  by  a  huge  sub  directly  on  submerging.  We 
let  go  one  of  our  mines  from  the  stern  quarter,  set  to  explode 
at  eighty  feet.  We  were  soon  rewarded  by  seeing  the  colour 
of  the  water  change  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
explosion,  and  while  attending  to  the  picking  up  of  the 
fishermen  it  was  noted  that  among  the  bubbles  then  appear- 
ing on  the  surface,  a  brownish  shine  predominated.  Only 
delaying  long  enough  to  make  sure  we  had  finished  for 
"La  Boche,"  we  picked  up  the  crew  without  further  mishap, 
the  entire  incident  occupying  but  forty  minutes  from  the 
time  of  hearing  the  first  report  until  the  consummation  of 
the  rescue. 

The  Fates  were  exceedingly  kind  to  us  on  this  day,  for  at 
eleven  o'clock  that  night,  while  the  subject  of  the  recent 
attack  was  still  under  discussion,  the  lookout  on  the  bridge 
discovered  another  monster  lying  on  the  surface,  for  all  the 
world  like  some  huge  whale  taking  the  air.  This  submarine 
was  about  500  yards  dead  ahead,  and  while  quickly  jamming 
the  helm  over,  the  Officer  of  the  Deck  ordered  the  starboard 
battery  to  take  a  shot.  The  shot  may  not  have  taken  effect, 
as  the  sub  was  then  in  the  act  of  submerging;  but  as  we 
steamed  directly  over  her  wake  and  let  go  four  mines  of  dif- 
ferent sizes  in  as  many  seconds  we  were  soon  assured  that  we 
had  done  for  another. 


124  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

The  navy,  true  enough,  is  a  world  with  strange 
customs  and  a  language  all  its  own.  Its  opera- 
tions are  entirely  on  a  man  plan.  There  is  no 
place  in  the  navy  for  woman,  for  the  navy  and  all 
its  wisdom  belongs  to  man.  From  the  men,  for 
the  most  part,  come  just  four  demands — ^three 
square  meals  a  day  and  a  square  deal.  These  they 
must  have,  and  do  have.  Food,  on  board  ship, 
and  more  particularly  in  the  war  zone,  is  a 
vital  problem.  Though  of  necessity  it  is  very 
plain,  the  bluejacket's  food  must  be  good,  and  in 
plenty. 

The  galley  is  on  the  upper  deck  of  all  the  newer 
ships,  departing  from  the  ideas  of  the  old  days, 
when  sanitation  formed  no  important  part  in  a 
ship's  plan.  Now  we  find  the  cooking  up  in  the 
air  and  sunshine,  immaculately  clean  and  with  the 
latest  cooking  equipment  and  facilities  for  the  pre- 
paration of  food.  Ship's  cooks  and  assistants  are 
numerous.  The  cafeteria  system  of  service  is 
very  generally  used  now,  in  spite  of  protests  by  the 
men  at  waiting  in  line.  Variation  of  food  of  course 
is  dependent  upon  exigencies.  While  at  times 
navy  beans  and  stew  are  routine,  there  is  never  any 
monotony  when  the  refrigerator  ship  is  able  to 
come  alongside.  We  have  had  it  ably  expressed 
by  Disraeli  that  "public  health  is  the  foundation 
on  which  reposes  the  happiness  of  the  people  and 
the  power  of  the  country."  To  this  principle  the 
navy  closely  adheres,  applying  it  to  food.     A  ship 


THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR  125 

is  no  place  to  have  sickness.  Not  tliat  the  hospital 
facilities  are  not  of  the  highest  standard,  but  there 
is  a  certain  lack  of  sympathy  for  a  sick  man  aboard 
ship,  that  I  have  seen  in  no  other  community. 
Since  the  close  association  makes  contagion  very 
dangerous,  every  precaution  is  taken  to  avoid 
epidemic. 

The  bluejacket's  day  aboard  the  New  York  while 
at  war  was  so  often  broken  by  trips  to  sea  and  oc- 
casions aboard  ship  that  a  condition  of  monotony 
was  seldom  reached.  The  general  ship's  routine, 
showing  with  what  a  sailor  has  to  cope,  was  ar- 
ranged as  follows,  to  be  carried  out  whenever  pos- 
sible: 

General  daily  Routine  of  Ship  while  in  port  at  Scapa  Flow 

December,  '17  to  '18 

(Except  Sat.,  Sun.,  &  holidays) 

A  M 

6:00  Reveille,  All  hands  (Sun.  &  holidays,  6:30). 

6:30  Turn  to;  Out  smoking  lamp;  Execute  Morning  orders. 

7:30  Breakfast,  Get  into  Uniform  of  the  day  during  meal 

hour. 
8:15  Turn  to.    Gun  &  deck  bright  work.     Working  party 

details. 
8:30  Sick  call. 
9:00  Colours.     Inspection  of  decks. 

Quarters  for  muster  and  inspection.     Physical  drill. 
9 :30  Loading,  sightsetting  and  (if  possible)  pointing  drills. 
10:15  General  quarters  (Battle-stations  drill). 
10:45  Continue  division  drills. 
11 :30  Retreat  from  drill.  Mast;  sweep  down, 
12:00  Dinner.     Smoking  lamp. 


126  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

P  M 

1 :00  Turn  to.     Out  Smoking  lamp — Pipe  sweepers. 

1 :15  Quarters  for  muster  &  inspection. 

1 :30  Afternoon  instruction  &  ship's  work. 

4 :15  Knock  off  all  work.     Sweep  down. 

5:30  Supper. 

6:00  Torpedo  defense  quarters  (Mon.  Tues.  &  Thurs.). 

7:30  Hammocks  (rig). 

8 :00  Reports  of  departments  to  Executive  OflScer. 

9 :00  Tattoo.     Pipe  down.     Set  1st  anchor  watch. 

9:05  Taps. 

In  his  strange  setting,  the  sea  world,  the  blue- 
jacket presents  a  many-sided  character  study, 
amusing  as  he  is  interesting.  Unquestionably,  de- 
spite their  toils  and  hardships,  their  inner  nature 
reveals  them  boys,  mere  boys.  Look  at  their 
"ditty  box" — ^that  private  treasure  box  which  is 
allowed  to  be  in  the  possession  of  each  sailor!  It 
contains  his  few  necessities,  but  in  the  main  it  is  a 
box  of  precious  junk,  for  all  the  world  like  the  over- 
grown pocket  of  the  small  boy.  The  treasures 
of  his  ditty  box  are  the  joy  of  every  man.  Fully  to 
grasp  the  gob's  point  of  view,  and  really  to  under- 
stand him,  no  better  opportunity  has  ever  been 
offered  than  that  which  came  to  the  officers  who 
censored  their  mail  through  the  weary  months  of 
service  in  the  war.  There  is  no  limit,  in  texture  or 
pattern,  to  the  tangled  webs  which  the  problems 
of  their  lives  and  the  wanderings  of  their  imagina- 
tions have  created.  Volumes  could  be  filled  by  the 
revelations  of  my  own  censoring — a  mere  drop  in 


THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR  127 

the  bucket.  For  when  fifteen  hundred  men  from 
nearly  as  many  communities,  and  in  every  walk  of 
life,  unfold  the  problems  of  their  lives  in  their  own 
way,  a  new  stratum  is  touched  upon  which  many 
an  author  of  fiction  could  build  a  career.  The 
maze  of  the  web  defies  description,  even  of  the 
impressions  it  creates.  Hope,  despair,  love,  hate, 
jealousy,  fear,  humour,  pathos,  joy,  ambition,  con- 
tentment, resignation,  are  all  presented  in  style 
impossible  to  represent.  But  to  show  the  extremes 
to  which  these  letters  reach,  and  the  sort  of  en- 
counters that  kept  the  censor's  job  from  being  a 
deadly  bore,  I  cannot  refrain  from  reprinting  one 
letter,  just  as  it  came  to  the  censor,  which  I  think 
puts  the  letters  of  *'Dere  Mable  and  Dere  Bill"  on 
challenged  ground: 

U.  S.  S.  New  York,  August  14, 1918. 
Mb.  p.  S. 

Alton,  Illinois. 
Dear  Dad  will  slide  over  a  few  lines  and  trie  to  let  you  know 
that  I  am  still  floppin  an  have  been  able  to  make  a  good 
shoin  at  the  table  I  guess  you  know  where  i  am  at,  the  address 
is  always  the  same.  (Somewhere  on  the  torpedo  pond) 
Say  Dad  its  a  peach  of  an  address  for  visitors  if  you  had  the 
same  kind  you  never  would  be  troubled  with  you  rich  rela- 
tion droppin  in  on  you  oh  yes  we  have  visitors  once  in  a  while 
but  we  always  have  to  stand  at  attention  so  we  cant  see  em 
and  they  always  trot  past  like  a  deer  in  the  walk.  But  you 
know  how  my  sentiments  run  for  them  head  inflated  square 
heads  so  they  don't  bother  me  any.  When  we  were  in  a  cer- 
tain port  over  here  there  were  four  porpoises  doin  squads 
right  in  perfect  formation  I  had  been  in  the  notion  of  askin 


128  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

permission  to  go  swimmin  but  when  I  seen  those  four  big 
fish  come  up  out  of  the  harbor  side  by  each  I  concluded  id., 
take  my  swim  in  a  bucket  this  was  the  fourth  of  July  &  I  want 
to  say  that  for  once  I  missed  the  little  old  red  fire  crackers 
but  not  many  miles  away  they  were  celebrating  the  fourth 
in  the  good  old  fashioned  way.  We  often  go  out  and  dare 
German  dogs  out  of  their  holes  but  they  crawl  every  time 
they  see  us  comin.  I  have  almost  learned  to  be  a  sailor  I 
can  smoke  a  cigarette  untill  you  cant  see  my  head  for  a  cloud 
of  smoke  &  am  goin  to  wring  the  salt  out  of  my  socks  over 
the  stern  tonight  so  by  the  time  the  end  of  the  frolic  comes 
i'U  be  a  salty  dog.  It  is  a  hard  proposition  to  write  some- 
times for  between  a  general  riot  of  mud  slingin  and  often  in 
the  midst  it  is  punctured  by  the  mellow  notes  of  a  trombone 
or  the  wild  screechin  of  a  cello  &  the  agonized  scream  of  an 
e  flat  clarinett  and  then  if  i  should  happen  to  make  a  mistake 
in  all  the  racket  and  write  something  about  the  ship  or  like 
that  the  censor  would  rub  it  out  and  i  sit  around  a  great  eal 
and  when  i  run  i  blow  like  a  leaky  bellowe  in  a  village  black- 
smith shop,  a  fellers  letters  look  like  some  one  had  up  set  a 
bottle  of  ink  on  em  but  we  must  grin  and  bear  it  just  like 
payin  the  coal  bill.  Say  dad  that  reminds  me  to  tell  you  not 
to  worry  about  the  coal  for  i  have  a  little  wad  saved  up  to 
send  you  for  that  so  you  lay  in  plenty  of  Spud  Murphys  for 
the  kids  and  tack  some  old  sheet  iron  on  the  seat  of  their 
trousers  and  bottom  of  their  shoes  and  we'll  pull  out  of  this 
war  a  little  thinner  but  wiser  tell  the  kids  not  to  be  stuck 
up  about  wearin  old  clothes  for  i  go  to  church  in  a  low  neck 
suit  of  plain  blues  people  over  here  send  their  kids  to  church 
in  clothes  that  people  wouldnt  go  to  work  in  over  home  and 
they  are  just  as  proud  as  you  people  in  America  but  it  is  just 
like  it  always  has  been  with  us  a  necessity.  Say  has  the 
western  raised  the  wages  yet  i  suppose  not  for  they  cant 
afford  it  fortunately  we  have  laws  governin  excess  profits 
but  they  are  not  enforced  i  have  just  been  readin  in  the  Sat., 


'*  Above  and  Below  " 

The  Grand  Fleet's  latest  airplane  carrier  Argus,  and  one  of  her  twenty-four 
knot  steam  cruising  submarines 


King  George  Inspects  the  American  Flagship 

In  the  lower  picture  the  author  (at  extreme  left)  is  facing  the  King  and  Ad- 
miral Rodman.     Admiral  Beatty  and  Admiral  Sims  bring  up  the  rear 


THE  AMEMCAN  GOB  AT  WAR  129 

evenin  post  about  some  of  the  excess  profit  grabbers  and  of 
the  excellent  sand  bank  legislation  to  head  them  off  and  a 
j&ne  lot  of  criticism.  I  believe  that  the  baggin  of  one  profit 
grabber  does  the  general  public  more  good  than  anything 
else  unless  it  would  be  the  hangin  of  a  few  pro  germans.  I 
learned  to  obey  like  a  skinned  coyote  huntin  for  a  hole  its 
almost  like  bein  a  kid  you  ask  permission  to  do  a  thing  catch 
h — ^1  for  it  out  of  one  chief  if  you  get  by  with  it  its  alright  if 
you  dont  its  your  own  hard  luck.  If  we  get  in  a  fight  we 
fight  it  out  and  then  make  up  they  always  fight  when  they 
get  ready  and  they  are  ready  any  time.  I  have  been  pretty 
lucky  so  far  by  not  carryin  any  beauty  marks  on  my  mush 
We  all  get  up  at  first  call  for  we  have  a  silver  toned  officer 
who  comes  around  cryin  in  a  thin  voice  to  get  up  and  take 
the  gold  fish  for  a  walk  etc.,  I  have  just  been  readin  a  new 

copy  of  the  censor  rules  and  come  d near  tearin  up  my 

letter  for  fear  i  had  wrote  somethin  we  got  it  on  the  slackers 
we  get  all  the  leadin  brands  of  tobacco  and  they  don't  I  dont 
see  how  they  can  sleep  tryin  to  dodge  the  draft  and  payin 
high  prices  for  beer.  I  bet  I  have  found  out  why  all  the  boys 
are  in  a  hurry  to  get  across  they  sell  beer  to  men  in  uniform 
that  is  a  certain  amount.  Sea  gulls  are  as  tame  as  sparrows 
over  here  and  a  whole  lot  hungrier.  I  roost  so  high  at  night 
i  feel  like  a  little  bird  or  one  of  those  4  oclock  alarm  clocks 
with  feathers  on  it.  Hey  do  you  ever  go  down  to  talk  with 
Mrs.  Furgeson  or  does  Maw  ever  let  you  out  of  the  house. 
Yes  we  have  inspection  have  had  them  ever  since  i  left  home 
talk  about  maw  raggin  a  fellow,  these  old  boys  in  the  navy 
they  can  see  a  fly  speck  a  hundred  yards.  Yes  they  used  to 
admire  my  pretty  hair  in  civilian  life  but  they  aint  got  no 
eye  for  beauty  in  the  Navy  they  cut  it  off  until  it  looks  like  a 
singed  cat  in  a  snow  storm  we  keep  everything  clean  also  the 
brass  is  shined  up  until  it  would  make  a  lookin  glass  turn  sick 
with  envy  and  the  paint  work  is  scrubbed  cleaner  than  Lil- 
lian Russels'  face  so  you  see  theres  no  danger  for  gettin  in- 


130  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

fected  from  unsanitary  conditions  when  we  coal  ship  we  have 
a  time  everybody  plays  nigger  and  one  time  we  was  located 
over  the  chow  house  the  pleasant  fumes  from  a  combination  of 
eats  made  me  study  between  to  things  (wearing  my  gass 
mask,  or  singin  back  home  again)  I  suppose  weeds  have 
grown  to  a  respectable  size  in  my  garden.  Tell  Ed  Elinpetre 
to-  still  play  that  little  dity  (dont  try  to  steal  the  sweetheat 
of  a  sailor)  and  if  he  catches  any  one  shinin  his  elbows  on 
my  girls  piano  to  go  down  and  serenade  him  with  a  bunch  of 
Irish  confetti.  There  aint  any  mosquitoes,  over  here  I  have 
been  wonderin  if  them  Scotchmen  wear  kilts  in  the  trenches 
if  i  wore  em  id  want  an  air  tight  heater  under  my  dress  for 
it  sure  gets  down  to  zairo  over  here.  I  lost  a  pair  of  socks 
and  a  hat  but  i  ha  vent  told  the  admiral  about  it  I  dont  sup- 
pose hed  care  any  way  so  i  just  let  it  drop.  I  have  got  so 
used  to  sleepin  in  a  hammock  that  i  believe  I  could  sleep  in  a 
oriole's  nest.  Say  if  you  can  have  mama  get  Ediths  address 
in  Chicago  i  wish  you  would  send  it  to  me.  I  would  like 
to  hear  from  her  if  you  get  it  tell  her  to  write  me  and  send 
me  her  address  at  the  same  time  that  she  writes  and  you  send 
her  mine  so  she  wont  make  any  mistake  I  have  got  so  used 
to  seein  square  head  officials  of  our  own  country  that  i  be- 
lieve I'll  spite  em  an  be  a  socialist  for  the  rest  of  my  life. 
1  have  just  read  of  how  British  Labor  have  stuck  to  the  prob- 
lem of  we  must  win  and  if  Americas  Labor  stick  like  Britains 
you  never  will  have  any  trouble  winnin  Im  goin  to  make 
Geraldine  a  little  present  so  she  wont  think  i  have  jilted  her 
but  she  has  plenty  of  chance  to  get  revenge  so  i  must  be  very 
diplomatic  and  keep  a  spark  or  two  fanned  within  her.  The 
weather  is  fine  only  when  it  rains  and  it  rains  nearly  all  the 
time.  I  have  been  laying  off  to  write  to  Admiral  Sutton  but 
havent  so  far  I  guess  he  has  learned  his  lesson  since  he  had 
his  memorable  houseparty.  I  have  written  to  Walter  &  i 
either  wrote  Elmbro  or  did  and  lost  his  letter  for  i  cant  find 
his  letter  here.     Now  Dad  the  first  time  you  get  time  just 


THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR  131 

drop  me  a  line  explainin  your  position  and  rite  often  and  long 
letters  for  they  are  few  and  far  apart.     Well  so  long  Dad. 

From  your  son 
R.  A.  S. 
U.  S.  S.  New  York  (Band) 
Postmaster  New  York  City. 

We  need  hardly  cast  about  at  all  to  pick  up  insti- 
tutions and  customs  of  the  gob's  very  own,  which 
reveal  his  character,  distinctly  boyish  when  not 
at  his  work.  One  of  these  is  his  unique  and  un- 
failing observance  of  Christmas  day.  As  early 
as  September  of  each  year  the  men  on  the  battle- 
ships begin  to  save  their  loose  change  and  create 
funds  for  Christmas.  Not  to  be  used  on  them- 
selves, but  for  gifts  and  entertainment  for  some 
group  of  poor  children  whom  they  select,  accord- 
ing to  their  port,  transport  to  the  ship  for  the  day, 
and  give  them  a  Christmas  such  as  few  amongst 
the  tiny  guests  have  ever  known.  Christmas  of 
1917  found  the  New  York  in  the  Firth  of  Forth. 
With  more  than  a  hundred  children  from  the  Grass- 
market  district  of  Edinburgh,  memories  of  the 
fourth  Christmas  of  the  great  war  will  linger  for 
many  a  day  to  come.  The  men  of  the  New  York 
had  selected  to  be  their  guests  that  day  a  hundred 
of  the  most  needy  little  waifs  of  Edinburgh  whose 
fathers  had  lost  their  lives  in  the  war.  Arrange- 
ments were  made  through  a  local  charity,  and 
the  day  before  Christmas  saw  representatives  of 
the  ship's  company  in  Edinburgh,  delegated  to 


132  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

make  final  arrangements.  The  children  all  re- 
ceived new  dresses  or  new  suits  on  Christmas 
Eve,  and  were  transported  to  the  pier  by  motor 
bus  on  the  following  morning.  The  little  tots 
went  wild  with  delight  at  the  sailors,  and  most  of 
their  joy  was  reciprocated.  They  could  scarcely 
believe  they  were  actually  to  go  on  board  of  "one 
of  those  big  ships." 

The  entire  crew,  headed  by  the  commander, 
welcomed  the  wide-eyed  youngsters  on  deck  and 
at  once  led  them  below  to  where  the  tables  were 
laid  for  Christmas  dinner.  Picture  the  delight  of 
these  poor  war-rationed  children  at  a  meal  of 
turkey,  asparagus,  potatoes,  pie,  cakes,  ice  cream 
and  sweets!  After  dining  to  their  hearts'  content 
they  all  filed  out,  loaded  with  gifts  of  toys,  books, 
apples,  nuts,  chocolate  and  a  scarf,  to  where  a 
"movie"  had  been  rigged.  It  was  a  joyous  audi- 
ence that  watched  the  antics  of  Charlie  Chaplin 
on  the  screen,  children  and  sailors  alike.  The 
end  of  the  day  doubtless  left  many  expecting  to 
waken  at  any  moment  from  some  pleasant  dream. 
But  the  most  significant  feature  of  this,  as  of  all 
the  gob's  Christmas  days,  is  the  joy  they  share 
with  the  children,  in  anticipation  and  realization 
of  the  Christmas  spirit. 

The  bluejacket  ashore  has  always  been  a  problem 
to  the  navy,  and  when  ashore  on  foreign  soil,  in 
time  of  war,  the  problem  assumed  enormous  pro- 
portions,    N^ver  had  they  been  seen  in  such  num- 


THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR  133 

bers,  nor  after  such  lengthy  periods  of  confinement 
on  their  ships.  By  them,  as  by  our  soldiers,  the 
American  nation  would  for  generations  be  judged. 
No  effort  was  spared,  therefore,  to  have  the  blue- 
jacket conduct  himself  becomingly.  The  results 
from  start  to  finish  were  remarkable.  Of  course 
there  were  wild,  uncontrollable  individuals,  always 
in  proportion  to  the  numbers  ashore.  The  men 
as  a  rule  drank,  but  not  to  excess.  The  general 
impression  they  have  left  in  the  towns  of  our  bases 
abroad  is  that  our  jackies,  while  free  spenders  and 
often  a  noisy  lot,  are  decent  fellows  and  easily 
controlled.  Perhaps  the  greatest  single  factor 
which  contributed  to  this  admirable  result  was  a 
remarkably  brilliant  and  forceful  appeal  contained 
in  a  letter  addressed  by  Admiral  Wilson  to  the 
American  naval  forces  in  France,  which  he  com- 
manded. The  excellence  of  his  letter  was  at  once 
recognized  by  Admiral  Sims,  who  broadcasted 
it  to  all  our  naval  forces  in  Europe  and  kept  it 
constantly  before  them.  A  man  must  be  low  in- 
deed, who,  with  this  appeal  fresh  in  his  memory, 
would  bring  disgrace  to  himself  or  to  his  country: 

We  are  guests  in  the  house  of  another  people.  Our  home 
will  be  judged  by  our  conduct  in  theirs.  We  still  live  under 
the  rules,  laws,  and  spirit  of  the  place  from  which  we  come. 

Every  great  nation  in  history  has  stood  for  some  one  defi- 
nite idea;  Greece  for  beauty,  Rome  for  law,  Israel  for  re- 
ligion. America,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  stands  preem- 
inently for  freedom  and  the  ideal  of  manhood.    We  must 


134  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

not  shake  that  opinion  but  do  all  that  we  can  to  strengthen 
it. 

We  have  come  to  this  side  of  the  world  to  record,  by  the 
indelible  imprint  of  arms,  our  protest  against  that  which  is 
brutal,  wicked,  and  unjust,  to  give  expression  to  that  measure 
of  indignation  stirred  in  the  heart  of  America  by  the  deeds 
of  terror  which  the  enemy  has  written  across  the  face  of 
France. 

Our  nation  stands  for  everything  that  is  contrary  to  the 
spirit  of  arrogant  power  and  tyranny — Let  us  prove  this 
by  our  lives  here ! 

The  only  history  of  America  that  many  of  the  people  of 
Europe  will  ever  read  is  that  which  is  recorded  by  our  lives. 

Live  here  the  proud  manly  existence  that  is  justly  ex- 
pected. 

Be  courteous,  temperate,  and  self -controlled. 

We  fight  against  the  Hun's  ill-treatment  of  women;  let 
no  man  be  tempted  to  do,  by  insinuation,  what  we  charge  our 
enemies  with  doing  by  force.  Let  the  women  of  France 
remember  the  men  of  America  as  those  who  would  shield 
them  against  all  harm  even  that  which  might  spring  from 
their  defenders. 

You  would  fight  the  man  who  insulted  your  uniform;  do 
not  insult  it  yourself.  Let  it  not  be  carried  into  places 
of  disrepute  or  into  any  discrediting  act.  We  are  here  for  a 
great,  high,  and  solemn  purpose,  then  we  will  return  to  our 
homes  clean  and  proud  and  victorious. 

Mr.  Ralph  Paine  gives  out  what  seems  to  be  a 
record  for  good  conduct  of  men  on  liberty  when  he 
states,  as  a  result  of  his  investigation: 

"These  thousands  of  fine  boys  of  ours  who  are 
afloat  in  the  war  zone  are  not  accustomed  to  exile, 
and  it  seems  a  long,  long  road  to  New  York  or 


THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR  135 

Chicago  or  Kansas  City.  Shore  Hberty  meant 
something  when  they  were  among  their  own  kind, 
and  there  was  always  the  bhthe  anticipation  of  a 
few  days'  leave  and  permission  to  journey  home. 
Sending  them  back  from  the  war-zone  is  difficult 
to  arrange  and  they  must  make  the  best  of  it. 

"These  are  some  of  the  reasons  why  the  country 
can  feel  pride  and  confidence  in  the  behaviour 
of  the  navy  on  foreign  service.  The  record  has 
been  extraordinarily  good.  There  was  a  certain 
division  of  American  ships  which  sent  ashore  six 
thousand  men  for  a  day's  liberty.  When  they  re- 
turned aboard  there  were  three  arrests  for  drunk- 
enness and  three  for  overstaying  leave." 

What  really  kept  the  "nothing-to-do-but-get- 
pickled"  idea  in  the  background  of  the  gob's 
thoughts  was  sports.  Of  course  the  restrictions 
which  England  and  Scotland  had  placed  upon  the 
liquor  traffic  for  the  duration  of  war  helped  enor- 
mously, for  often  a  man  could  not  get  liquor  if  he 
wanted  it.  But  to  have  another  object,  something 
else  to  do,  was  a  big  factor  in  the  successful  conduct 
of  the  gobs. 

To  the  men  of  the  Sixth  Battle  Squadron  belongs 
the  distinction,  I  think,  of  introducing  baseball  into 
Scotland.  Each  ship  had  its  team,  and  most  of 
the  divisions  of  each  ship  had  their  teams.  Inter- 
est in  baseball  continued  at  a  high  pitch  from  early 
spring  to  late  summer.  Wherever  the  squadron 
based,  baseball  diamonds  were  soon  laid  out,  and 


136  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

the  men  were  ashore  at  every  chance  to  keep  them 
populated.  The  huge  naval  recreation  field  at 
Rosyth  furnished  the  best  opportunity  for  the 
game.  Exhibition  matches  were  arranged  and 
played  whenever  possible,  to  the  great  interest  of 
the  people  who  had  heard  of  baseball  for  years 
but  never  seen  it.  To  an  American  who  knows 
baseball  (and  who  does  not?)  nothing  could  be 
much  more  amusing  than  this  write-up  of  an  exhi- 
bition game  which  was  played  on  Decoration  Day, 
1918,  atlnverleith: 

"The  game  was  watched  with  keen  interest  and 
no  little  appreciation  by  the  spectators;  who, 
however,  probably  derived  as  much  enjoyment 
and  amusement  from  the  enthusiasm  shown  by 
the  American  onlookers  as  from  the  actual  play, 
which,  broadly  speaking,  is  much  after  the  old 
Scottish  game  of  rounders.  There  was  a  continual 
babel  of  shouting  and  yelling  all  through  the  oper- 
ations, especially  when  the  strikers  got  in  good 
hits,  or  when  the  ball  was  smartly  returned  to  one 
of  the  base  men  and  there  was  an  out  obtained. 
Much  of  this  noise  is  directed  against  the  pitcher, 
and  is  known  in  America  as  *  rooting' — in  this 
country  it  is  called  barracking — or,  as  one  of  the 
most  prominent  shouters  put  it,  *  making  him  chew 
it.'  The  throwing  of  the  pitcher  was  for  the  most 
part  very  accurate  and  very  fast,  and  the  man 
behind  the  striker,  the  catcher,  took  the  ball  very 
smartly  and  cleanly.     Runs  were  hard  to  get,  the 


THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR  137 

strikers  missing  oftener  than  striking,  and  scoring 
was  low.  Several  of  the  players  were  run  out, 
thanks  to  good  fielding,  accurate  throwing  in,  and 
sure  fielding  by  the  base  men.  There  are  nine  men 
to  a  side:  a  striker,  a  catcher,  three  base  men  and 
the  other  four  fieldsmen  in  the  country." 

Another  great  day  for  baseball  in  the  navy  came 
when  the  King  and  Queen  witnessed  the  game 
which  was  played  at  Chelsea  on  the  4th  of  July, 
1918.  The  ball  game  at  Chelsea  was  not  merely 
an  ordinary  sporting  fixture;  it  was  much  more. 
For  the  first  time  a  British  sovereign  expressed, 
by  his  attendance,  a  recognition  of  what  had  al- 
ways been  called  an  act  of  rebellion — the  Declar- 
ation of  Independence.  Their  Majesties  watched 
the  game  with  Admiral  Sims,  exhibiting  much  in- 
terest in  the  sport  and  the  players  as  well.  It  was 
a  Navy  vs.  Army  contest  and  drew  a  record 
crowd. 

Football  replaced  baseball  in  the  fall,  but  of 
course  could  not  be  played  by  the  numbers  who 
enjoyed  baseball.  There  were  ships'  teams  which 
drew  a  tremendous  following  and  which  were 
backed  by  every  single  bluejacket.  The  popular- 
ity of  boxing  in  the  fleet  is  so  well  established  that 
it  scarcely  needs  mention.  Elimination  contests 
were  held  regularly  at  intervals  leading  up  to  the 
Grand  Fleet  Championships  in  August.  This  was 
a  tremendous  affair,  attended  by  thousands,  from 
the  Commander-in-Chief  down.    The  American  en- 


138   BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

tries  upheld  their  reputation  in  all  weights  where 
they  had  qualified,  taking  away  more  than  their 
share  of  the  final  honours.  Track  athletics  con- 
tinued throughout  the  year,  culminating  in  the 
Fleet  Championship  meet  in  September.  Teams 
were  representative  of  squadrons  on  that  occasion. 
The  First  Battle  Squadron  (British)  won  the  Grand 
Fleet  Championship,  with  the  Sixth  Battle  Squad- 
ron (American)  second.  The  point  score  was  very 
close  and  the  issue  in  doubt  to  the  very  end.  Ad- 
miral Madden  of  the  First  Battle  Squadron  was 
as  pleased  as  his  men  over  the  victory.  The  usual 
competition  and  interest  in  rowing  had  to  be  given 
up  while  our  ships  were  abroad,  because  our  battle 
trim  did  not  permit  of  carrying  raceboats.  This 
was  considerably  disappointing  to  the  gobs  who 
had  to  watch  the  British  at  the  sport,  feeling 
sure  that  they  could  have  turned  out  crews  to 
beat  them.  They  based  their  confidence  on  the 
boasts  of  some  of  our  "chiefs"  who  had  been  on  the 
champion  Delaware  at  the  Coronation  in  1911, 
where  she  captured  seventeen  firsts  in  twenty-one 
starts,  from  which  the  British  have  scarcely  yet 
recovered. 

With  such  expansion  as  took  place  in  the  navy 
during  wartime,  promotion  of  a  man  who  showed 
aptitude  and  ability  was  very  rapid.  Practically 
all  petty  ofiicers  were  advanced,  and  a  man  in  the 
ranks  who  stood  out  at  all  above  the  rest  was  soon 
made  a  petty  officer.     Knowing  his  possible  re- 


THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR  139 

ward,  there  is  enough  ambition  in  the  average 
American  bluejacket  to  keep  him  everlastingly 
playing  the  game — ^playing  it  so  hard  that  an  offi- 
cer, if  not  right  up  on  his  toes,  will  find  himself 
lagging.  The  feeling  was  prevalent  among  the 
lucky  ones  whose  service  was  actually  in  contact 
with  the  enemy,  that  theirs  was  a  very  decided 
privilege. 

We  find,  too,  that  there  are  ambitions  to  which 
the  gobs  aspire.  It  is  the  business  of  a  boatswain's 
mate  to  ''pipe"  over  the  side  all  officers  of  the  navy 
and  army  who  come  aboard,  as  part  of  the  regular 
side-honours  rendered,  according  to  the  rank  of  the 
visitor.  Therefore,  there  are  aboard  the  New  York 
three  chief  boatswain's  mates,  who  boast  of  having 
"piped"  a  king  aboard;  two  who  have  princes;  and 
nearly  every  rated  boatswain's  mate  lays  claim  to 
at  least  one  admiral.  But  to  Chief  Boatswain's 
Mate  Schirm  was  accorded  an  honour  and  distinc- 
tion far  above  the  rest,  and  one  of  which  his  chil- 
dren's children  will  continue  their  proud  boast. 
When  King  George  of  England  visited  and  in- 
spected the  American  flagship  for  the  first  time  he 
spent  fully  an  hour  about  the  decks.  Before  His 
Majesty  left  he  wished,  with  his  characteristic 
democracy,  to  see  the  man  with  the  longest  service 
aboard.  Admiral  Rodman  at  once  transmitted 
the  King's  request  to  the  Commander,  who  with- 
out hesitation  picked  Chief  Boatswain's  Mate 
Schirm  from  his  post  at  the  head  of  the  "boys" 


140  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

who  were  drawn  up  for  His  Majesty's  side-hon- 
ours. Schirm  has  a  record  of  twenty-six  years' 
service  in  the  American  navy.  With  him  the  King 
engaged  in  conversation  before  taking  his  depar- 
ture, and  during  the  time  cameras  and  motion  pic- 
ture machines  were  focussed  on  the  incident  in 
such  numbers  that  within  a  week  Schirm' s  fame 
had  spread  countrywide.  Incidentally  "'Shorty" 
Schirm  is  known  through  the  service  as  one  of  the 
navy's  best  seaman,  and  well  upheld  his  reputation 
on  this  cruise. 

An  officer,  even  In  the  highest  command.  Is  al- 
ways learning  something  from  his  men,  who  are  so 
totally  different  from  each  other  that  the  ship 
seems  scarcely  large  enough  to  hold  them.  In 
handling  the  courts  martial  he  runs  across  the  scum 
of  the  ship,  along  with  others  only  slightly  needing 
discipline.  When  on  deck  in  the  morning  watch  he 
finds  those  who  are  just  ahead  of  all  the  rest,  start- 
ing the  day  ahead.  Below  decks,  on  his  night  in- 
spections, he  finds  those  who  are  ever  struggling  to 
escape  oflBcial  eye,  straggling,  usually,  from  their 
hammocks  In  quest  of  deviltry.  In  a  hundred 
ways  an  officer  comes  to  know  these  men;  and, 
knowing  them,  arrives  at  last  at  one  conclusion. 
Admiral  Sir  Lewis  Bayle,  Commander-in-Chief  of 
the  British  naval  forces  on  the  coasts  of  Ireland, 
addressing  the  American  destroyer  fleet  in  May, 
1918,  the  anniversary  of  the  arrival  of  the  first 
United    States   men-of-war   at   Queenstown,   ex- 


THE  AMERICAN  GOB  AT  WAR  141 

pressed  what  I  believe  to  be  the  feehng  of  us  all,  in 
our  small  way,  when  he  concluded: 

"To  command  you  is  an  honour,  to  work  with 
you  is  a  pleasure,  to  know  you  is  to  know  the  best 
traits  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race." 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  TEETH  OF  BEATTY'S  BULLDOGS 

POWER    AND    PERFECTION    OF    GUNNERY   AT    SEA.      FIRE 

CONTROL   AND  ORGANIZATION   OF  THE   GRAND  FLEET  AT 

THE  CONCLUSION  OF  THE  WORLD  CRISIS 

A  flash,  a  roar,  the  turrets  whip. 

The  mighty  guns  recoil: 
The  quivering  ship  sags  drunkenly. 

The  nearby  waters  boil. 
The  guns  spring  back  **to  battery" 

The  brown  smoke  rolls  overhead. 
And  dancing  heat  waves  shimmer. 

Where  the  singing  shells  have  sped. 

— E.  E.  Wilson. 

SUPPOSE  it  were  perfectly  certain  that  the 
hves  of  every  one  of  us  would,  one  day  or 
other,  depend  upon  our  winning  or  losing 
a  game.  Would  we  not  study  it,  practise  it,  an- 
alyze and  construct  it  with  all  the  energy  we 
possessed  until  we  had  reached  what  we  believed 
to  be  unchallenged  perfection  .^^  Such,  exactly^ 
was  the  case  in  the  Grand  Fleet.  The  game  upon 
which  depended  the  life  of  each  officer  and  maij 
in  that  great  fleet,  as  well  as  the  safety  of  the  na- 
tions which  lay  behind  it,  was  gunnery.  Hundreds 
of  millions  of  dollars  had  been  spent  for  its  develop- 
ment.    Hundreds  of  thousands  of  inen  had  worked 

142 


THE  TEETH  OF  BEATTY'S  BULLDOGS   143 

for  Its  perfection.  Further,  before  that  fleet 
had  been  conceived,  the  ships  of  countless  other 
fleets  had  been  commissioned,  careered,  and  retired 
for  the  sake  of  gunnery.  Thousands  of  men  and 
officers  had  lived  and  died  for  gunnery,  focussing 
their  Hfe's  work  on  one  great  moment  (a  moment 
which,  deep  down,  they  hoped  their  God  would 
never  permit  to  come)  in  order  that  their  game,  in 
that  stupendous  trial  should  succeed;  and  their 
names,  when  coupled  with  their  victory,  mount  to 
heights  undreamed  of.  And  so  the  Grand  Fleet 
toiled  and  strove  for  gunnery,  with  right  and  jus- 
tice for  the  motive  of  Its  deadly  game. 

What  Is  a  big  gun?  Simple  enough,  apparently, 
this  massive  piece  of  cold,  hard  steel.  But  con- 
sider It  In  operation !  Think  of  a  man-made  mech- 
anism which  will  hurl  three-quarters  of  a  ton  of 
loaded  steel  spinning  point  first  through  fifteen 
miles  of  space  each  thirty  seconds!  Which  Is  so 
adjusted  that  at  a  range  of  twelve  miles  Its  flying 
missile  may  be  directed  accurately  into  a  forty- 
foot  target,  striking  with  sufficient  force  to  cut 
through  sixteen  inches  of  Krupp  steel  and  then 
explode  violently,  destroying  any  near-by  life  with 
poisonous  gases!  The  great  steel  shells  of  these 
huge  guns  could  be  driven  through  fifty  Inches  of 
wrought  Iron  as  they  leave  the  muzzle.  The 
velocity  at  this  point  Is  such  that,  were  the  speed 
maintained  for  four  and  a  half  days  It  would  travel 
a  distance  equal  to  the  span  from  earth  to  moon. 


144  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

The  muzzle  energy  created  by  the  discharge  of  a 
single  14-inch  gun  is  70,000  tons,  a  force  greater 
than  the  combined  energy  of  a  million  Springfield 
rifles — ^the  arms  of  a  million  men.  To  visualize 
further,  sufficient  force  is  created  in  a  single 
ten-gun  broadside  salvo  from  a  ship,  to  lift  the 
one-time  queen  of  our  navy.  Old  Ironsides^  350 
feet  in  the  air! 

Creation  of  force  on  this  titanic  scale  cannot  be 
accomplished  without  a  tremendous  reaction  and 
disturbance  at  its  source.  So  violent  is  the  shock 
of  discharge  indeed,  that  it  presents  some  very 
serious  problems  in  the  construction  as  well  as 
the  handling  of  ships  built  to  withstand  modern 
gunfire.  The  impressions  of  the  first  target  prac- 
tice I  experienced  may  serve  to  bring  out  some 
surprising  features  which  had  never  before  oc- 
curred to  me.  Stationed  at  a  range-finder,  on 
the  top  of  a  forward  turret,  there  was  a  beautiful 
opportunity  to  observe  fully  the  effects  of  the  fir- 
ing. It  was  salvo  firing.  By  closing  a  switch 
at  a  given  instant  of  time  when  all  guns  bear  on 
the  target,  an  officer  in  the  foretop,  manning  a  di- 
rectorscope,  is  responsible  for  the  actual  discharge 
of  the  ten  roaring  monsters.  By  stop-watch  I 
knew  exactly  when  that  first  salvo  was  to  be  fired; 
had  heard  the  shells  and  powder  rumble  into  the 
guns;  had  heard  the  breech  click  followed  by  the 
word  "ready,"  and  watched  the  great  muzzles 
rise  into  the  air  before  me  as  they  sought  the  proper 


An  Unprecedented  Courtesy 

The  Royal  Standard  of  England  floating  from  the  mainmast  of  the  New 
York  on  the  occasion  of  King  George's  visit 


Manning  the  Rail 

In  honour  of  the  King  of  England.     This  picture  was  taken  from  the  fire 
control  station  on  the  foremast,  looking  aft 


THE  TEETH  OF  BEATTY'S  BULLDOGS   145 

elevation.  Five  seconds  remained.  There  is  an 
eternity  of  deathly  silence  as  you  stand  there, 
braced,  with  every  muscle  tense  and  your  ears 
blocked  with  wads  of  cotton.  Then  suddenly, 
with  a  shock  that  staggers  even  your  thought,  the 
world  seems  to  burst.  The  ship  seems  to  have 
blown  up,  and  you  are  dazed.  But  you  jump,  all 
at  once,  as  the  rumbling  of  the  next  load  rouses 
your  senses.  The  hand  has  moved  five  seconds 
on  your  watch  dial.  Your  hat  is  gone,  trousers 
blown  up  nearly  to  the  knees,  and  you  feel  the 
effect  of  a  bolt  of  air  which  was  forced  into  your 
lungs  without  being  inhaled ! 

There  is  just  time  to  grasp  the  range-finder, 
refocus  it,  and  observe,  far  off  on  the  hazy  horizon, 
great  geysers  of  spray  mount  hundreds  of  feet  in 
the  air,  blanketing  the  target  from  view.  It  is 
the  splash  of  your  salvo,  twelve  miles  away !  Again 
the  "ready"  comes  from  down  below,  the  monsters 
lift  their  mouths  in  space,  and  you  "stand  by," 
this  time  more  reassured.  The  shock  again  blots 
out  your  reason  for  an  instant,  but  with  each  suc- 
ceeding blast  your  confidence  increases  and  you 
begin  to  observe  the  strange  phenomena  resulting 
from  these  violent  explosions.  A  sheet  of  blinding 
flame  darts  out  a  hundred  yards  from  the  ship's 
side,  at  once  replaced  by  a  great  white  cloud  of 
gas  which  rises  as  it  drifts  astern.  Overhead  there 
rises,  billowlike,  a  dense  black  cloud  of  soot  loosed 
from  the  funnels,  tubes,  and  fire  boxes  with  each 


146  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

shock.  The  cinders  tumble  back  on  deck  and 
join  the  bits  of  unburned  powder  scattered  there. 
Thirty  thousand  tons  of  ship  beneath  you  shake 
from  stem  to  stern  with  such  sharp  violence  that  a 
ripple  of  tiny  waves  goes  off  on  every  side.  The 
very  walls  of  the  turret  on  which  you  stand,  thirteen 
inches  of  solid  armour  steel,  vibrate  like  pasteboard 
as  the  great  breech  jumps  back  in  a  mighty  recoil 
from  the  expanding  gases.  There  is  a  majesty  of 
power  in  that  shock  of  discharge  and  rush  of  air 
that  can  only  be  felt  on  the  spot.  You  leave 
the  range  with  a  dull  headache  to  be  sure,  but  your 
spirits  are  high,  for  you  have  felt  the  greatest 
kinetic  force  of  man's  own  making. 

Perhaps  your  station  is  inside  one  of  the  turrets, 
actually  in  touch  with  one  of  the  monster  guns. 
I  had  certain  misgivings  when  first  assigned  to 
such  a  post,  for  the  idea  seemed  to  be  to  get  as 
far  away  as  possible  during  the  firing.  Yet  being 
in  a  turret  is  like  being  inside  of  a  great  safe,  and 
the  shock  of  the  explosion  is  removed  by  walls  of 
steel.  Once  inside,  with  an  iron  trap  door  cutting 
off  the  only  exit,  one  soon  begins  to  feel  at  home 
with  the  gun's  crew.  It  seemed  an  age,  on  the  first 
occasion,  before  we  had  "Coming  on  the  range" 
through  the  voice  tube;  then  within  about  thirty 
seconds  came  "  Stand  by  "  and  *'  Commence  firing ! " 
In  a  riot  of  noise  and  rush  of  air  through  the  bore  of 
the  gun  to  clear  it,  the  shell,  three-quarters  of  a 
ton  of  it,  comes  rattling  up  the  chain  hoist  and  on 


THE  TEETH  OF  BEATTY'S  BULLDOGS       147 

to  the  tray.  Whlrrr,  bang!  The  electric  rammer 
shoves  it  home!  Four  ninety-six  pound  bags  of 
powder,  urged  by  much  swearing  as  a  fraction  of 
a  second  here  and  there  is  lost,  follow  the  shell  by 
the  same  route.  Scarcely  is  the  tray  removed 
when  the  great  breech  plug  swings,  rotates,  snaps, 
and  is  locked.  "Ready!"  shouts  the  gun  captain. 
The  gun  pointer,  if  ready  too,  flashes  a  light  to  the 
plotting  room.  Five  seconds  pass — ^an  eternity  of 
breathless  silence  as  you  crouch  there,  every  muscle 
set.  The  blow  comes  like  a  mighty  sledge.  You 
land  about  where  you  were,  just  as  the  great  breech 
jumps  back  in  a  mighty  recoil  from  the  expanding 
gases.  It  seems  about  to  crush  you  when  a  counter 
recoil,  beautifully  timed,  snaps  the  huge  mass  back 
"to  battery,"  and  with  a  rush  of  air  the  breech 
plug  swings  to  start  another  load.  There  is  no 
time  to  relax.  The  entire  rush  of  loading  lasts 
but  eighteen  seconds.  Then,  like  well-trained  dogs, 
each  member  of  the  crew  again  drops  flat  in 
his  tracks  to  await  the  second  blast.  Ten  times 
we  fired  on  this  occasion,  and  by  the  tenth  shot 
all  were  quite  accustomed  to  the  shock  and  ready  to 
continue.  One  time  a  trayman  was  a  bit  too  slow 
in  jumping  clear.  A  moment  later  he  was  carried 
out  unconscious,  replaced  almost  before  he  hit  the 
deck.  The  incident  was  scarcely  noticed.  A  load- 
ing crew  works  like  a  machine  unless  badly  rattled, 
then  nothing  but  rough  handling  brings  them 
around.      It   takes   a   lot  to   rattle  a   good  gun 


148  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

crew,  but  sometimes  a  lot  happens  when  men  are 
trying  to  control  a  blast  that  would  destroy  a  city 
block. 

Another  day  I  had  my  firing  station  in  the 
"main  top."  The  "tops"  are  those  circular  eyr- 
ies projected  on  top  of  the  basket  masts,  roofed  and 
walled  with  steel,  from  which,  in  the  last  analysis, 
the  fire  of  the  monster  guns  is  actually  controlled. 
At  long  ranges,  the  tops  are  the  only  eyes  of  the 
ship.  From  them  the  guns  are  directed  and  fired, 
salvos  spotted,  and  ranges  corrected.  They  are 
considered  the  most  important  and  by  many  the 
most  desirable  of  all  battle  stations.  In  the  bright 
sunshine  of  a  crisp  October  afternoon,  with  only  a 
ripple  stirring  the  ocean  floor,  no  reviewing  point 
could  have  been  more  perfect  than  mine,  a  hundred 
and  sixty-five  feet  above  the  water  and  directly 
over  the  guns.  It  was  salvo  firing,  full  calibre. 
There  is  a  tremendous  exultation  in  being  up  there, 
in  actual  view  of  the  entire  broadside,  knowing  the 
power  of  the  guns,  and  waiting  for  the  moment 
which  has  been  your  object  for  weeks.  "You 
hear  the  order  Tire!'"  writes  a  British  midship- 
man from  Jutland,  "the  foretop  gets  up  and  hits 
you  in  the  face,  and  an  enormous  yellow  cloud  of 
cordite  smoke — ^the  charge  weighs  2,000  pounds — 
rises  up  and  blows  away  just  as  the  gentleman 
with  the  stop-watch  says  '  Time ! ' ;  and  then  you  see 
the  splashes  go  up,  perhaps  between  you  and  the 
enemy,  behind  the  enemy  perhaps,  or,  if  you  are 


THE  TEETH  OF  BEATTY'S  BULLDOGS   149 

lucky,  a  great  flash  breaks  out  on  the  enemy;  and 
when  the  smoke  has  rolled  away  you  have  just  time 
to  see  that  she  is  well  and  truly  blazing  before  the 
next  salvo  goes  off." 

The  terrific  shock  whips  the  great  basket  masts 
like  reeds.  The  full  force  of  the  ten  guns  can  be 
felt  up  there  with  an  expansion  of  gases  and  result- 
ant air  pressure  quite  inconceivable  until  experi- 
enced. That  the  human  mind  has  compounded  a 
substance  with  such  expansive  qualities  is  a  wonder 
of  the  age.  The  succession  of  violent  shocks  some- 
times breaks  up  the  reason  of  the  men,  and  it  is 
only  because  they  have  been  acting,  living,  breath- 
ing gunnery  for  weeks  that  they  are  able  to  con- 
tinue, like  machines.  The  firing  over,  all  the  crew 
to  the  lowest  fireroom  feel  as  though  some  great 
contest  has  been  won.  They  live  high  spiritedly 
for  days.  Such  is  the  effect  of  the  power  of  these 
weapons  with  which  they  play  the  game.  Yet, 
without  organization,  coordination,  and  perfect 
unity  of  command  the  great  guns  would  be  useless. 
Commander  Yates  Sterling  makes  an  analogy 
between  naval  organization  and  nature's  organiza- 
tion quite  uniquely.  "  Surviving  types,"  he  writes, 
"as  a  rule  contain  a  happy  balance  of  those  offen- 
sive attributes,  activity,  endurance,  and  intelli- 
gence, translated  into  claws  and  teeth,  limb  and 
muscles  and  an  hereditary  instinct  to  combine  in 
packs  for  the  attack  upon  a  more  powerful  foe. 
Nature  is  a  faultless  organizer,  yet  even  she  arrives 


150  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

at  perfection  only  through  a  selection  of  organs 
essential  to  an  environment." 

Realizing  the  importance  of  organization  in 
gunfire,  the  commanders  in  the  Grand  Fleet  strove 
for  its  perfection.  The  result  may  be  divided  into 
three  main  classes:  the  organization  within  the 
ship,  the  organization  within  the  squadron,  and 
the  organization  of  the  fleet. 

Within  each  ship  the  most  modern  and  complete 
system  of  fire  control  had  been  installed,  founded 
in  our  own  ships  upon  the  initiative  and  genius  of 
Admiral  Sims.  The  ship  to-day  replaces  the  gun 
as  a  fighting  unit,  for  guns  are  no  longer  discharged 
singly,  but  simultaneously  on  a  broadside.  To 
do  this  a  triple  communication  system  is  estab- 
lished throughout  the  ship,  visual,  'phone,  and 
voice-tube,  each  leading  over  a  different  course 
wherever  possible,  thus  to  avoid  destruction  by  a 
single  shell.  Hitting,  or  straddling,  rests  not  only 
with  the  gun,  but  is  dependent  upon  the  coopera- 
tion of  a  network  of  departments,  each  an  indispen- 
sable unit  to  the  whole.  From  the  conning  tower, 
walled  in  by  thirteen  inches  of  armour  plate,  the 
captain  runs  his  ship,  placing  her  according  to  his 
squadron  deployment.  The  navigator  and  gun- 
nery officer  are  with  him  there,  on  open  'phones  to 
all  departments.  Target,  method  of  fire,  and  time 
of  opening  fire  issue  from  these  officers,  and  their 
orders  are  taken  up  at  once  by  the  range-finders 
on  the  turret  tops.     They  lose  no  time  in  sending 


THE  TEETH  OF  BEATTY'S  BULLDOGS   151 

ranges  and  bearings  of  the  designated  target  to 
the  heart  of  the  firing  system,  four  decks  below 
the  water  line,  peopled  with  silent  brains,  and  com- 
plex instruments — ^the  plotting  room.  Thence 
after  computation  with  speed,  courses,  wind, 
change  of  range  and  target  bearing,  issues  a  range 
and  a  zero  time  to  the  turrets  and  fighting  tops. 
Fire  control  centre  in  the  conning  tower  gives  the 
order  "Train!"  and  *'Load!"  to  the  turret  booths 
and  lower  handling  rooms.  Gun  crews  load,  point 
and  lay  their  guns,  signalling  back  to  plotting  room 
by  flashing  lights  and  voice  tubes.  When  Control 
gives  *' Stand  by!"  every  pointer  whose  pair  of 
guns  is  on  the  proper  reading  of  his  dials  closes  a 
switch.  The  firing  circuit  is  complete  with  one  ex- 
ception. Up  in  the  f  oretop,  a  directorscope  or  small 
telescope,  manned  by  an  officer  and  set  exactly 
with  all  the  guns,  has  a  switch  open.  That  switch 
is  on  the  firing  circuit.  With  his  eye  on  the  target 
in  his  field,  the  officer  waits  until  his  object  meets 
his  crosswires.  Holding  it  there,  he  closes  the 
switch,  and  on  the  next  roll  (Plot  has  measured 
the  range  angle  to  allow  for  this)  two  points  make 
contact  as  the  director  swings  exactly  "on."  A 
spark  of  fire  burns  into  a  small  percussion  cap  in 
the  breech  of  every  gun,  shoots  a  stream  of  fire  to 
the  powder  bags  within,  and  eight  tons  of  roaring 
steel  launch  skyward.  At  that  instant,  in  each 
of  the  tops,  a  "spotter"  presses  his  watch.  He 
knows  the  time  of  flight  for  his  given  range  and 


152  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

coolly  awaits  the  pleasure  of  the  drifting  smoke. 
Five  seconds  before  his  time  he  drops  to  his  glasses. 
White  geysers  mount  on  the  horizon.  He  studies 
them  an  instant,  murmurs  something  to  Control. 
It  may  be  "Down  one  thousand!";  "Up  five 
hundred!";  or  better  still  "No  change,  straddle!" 
Pencils  fly  and  instruments  are  buzzing  down  in 
plotting  room.  Ten  seconds  later  now,  and  cor- 
rected ranges  pass  over  three  routes  to  all  guns. 
The  second  load  has  been  completed.  The  second 
"ready  lights"  appear  in  plotting  room.  Nothing 
but  enemy  steel  can  halt  the  vise-like  death  grip 
closing  on  the  target  now,  relentlessly,  remorse- 
lessly. 

Within  the  squadron  things  are  far  more  com- 
prehensibile,  though  not  so  simple  in  their  execu- 
tion. The  fire  of  four  or  six  great  ships  must  be 
directed  and  employed  to  best  advantage.  An 
admiral  commands  each  squadron  from  his  flag- 
ship's bridge.  His  are  the  signal  forces,  his  the 
communications.  Having  placed  his  squadron  in 
deployment  as  directed  by  the  Commander-in- 
Chief,  who  is  drawing  up  his  fleet  for  action,  the 
admiral  turns  attention  to  his  ships'  positions  rela- 
tive to  cooperative  firing.  In  1918  the  Grand 
Fleet  so  outnumbered  the  High  Seas  Fleet  in  ships, 
that  the  Grand  Fleet  practised  what  is  known  as 
concentration  fire.  Ships  were  divided  into  firing 
groups  of  pairs,  each  two  concentrating  an  alter- 
nated fire  upon  one  designated  enemy  ship.     By  a 


THE  TEETH  OF  BEATTY'S  BULLDOGS       153 

system  of  visible  and  wireless  telephonic  communi- 
cation between  the  tops  of  the  ships  which  were 
concentrating,  the  result  of  each  salvo  would  be  im- 
mediately transmitted  to  the  other.  Thus  could 
the  correct  straddling  range  be  reached  in  half  the 
time  required  by  a  single  ship,  with  half  the  expen- 
diture of  ammunition.  If  each  ship  fired  only  once 
a  minute,  the  enemy  would  be  receiving  alternating 
salvos  every  thirty  seconds.  His  chances  of  reply- 
ing to  such  a  rain  of  steel  were  small.  So  the 
admiral  must  preserve,  besides  deployment  of  his 
squadron,  deployment  within  his  squadron,  for  his 
firing  unit  actually  became  a  pair  of  ships  and  not 
a  single  one.  His  problems  rested  not  alone  with 
timing  and  communication,  but  with  the  ability 
of  his  ship  captains  to  execute  their  orders  and 
maintain  positions  in  formation. 

Let  us  look  at  the  organization  of  the  Grand 
Fleet.  Summing  up  Rear  Admiral  Bradley  A. 
Fisk's  discussion  we  reach  some  interesting  conclu- 
sions. Compared  with  the  force  commanded  by 
Admiral  Jellicoe  in  the  North  Sea,  the  forces  com- 
manded by  Alexander,  or  Caesar,  or  Napoleon,  or 
Kelson  were  puny,  and  even  those  of  Togo  were 
unimportant.  Compared  with  this  force,  the 
aggregate  land  forces  of  both  the  Allies  and  the 
Teutons  were  inconsiderable.  The  total  oflFensive 
power  of  one  salvo  from  one  of  Jellicoe's  battle- 
ships was  greater  than  that  of  millions  of  mus- 
kets.     The    aggregate    artillery    power    of    the 


154  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

twenty-four  modern  battleships  that  Admiral 
Jellicoe  had  in  his  main  column  at  the  battle  of 
Jutland  was  greater  than  that  of  10,000,000  in- 
fantry soldiers — and  he  moved  these  battleships 
at  a  speed  of  nearly  twenty  miles  an  hour!  Such 
was  the  charge  of  Jellicoe;  and  the  fleet  opposed 
to  him,  upon  which  Germany  had  expended  a 
billion  and  a  half  dollars  was,  next  to  his  own,  the 
most  powerful  in  the  world.  His  superiority  of 
power  was  not  great.  He  must  depend,  for  the 
safety  of  Britain,  upon  the  organization  behind  his 
guns.  But  we  must  not  deviate  to  Jutland. 
The  greatness  of  Jellicoe's  forces  in  1916  fades  by 
comparison  with  the  stupendous  armada  of  Beatty's 
command  in  1918.  Roughly,  it  was  half  again  as 
great  in  power  and  ships  as  Jellicoe's  command  at 
Jutland.  Not  only  does  that  exhibit  of  man's 
force  stand  out  as  the  greatest  which  has  ever  been 
assembled,  but  bids  fair  to  stand  as  such  through 
all  time.  For,  while  sea  power  will  always  remain 
a  factor  of  vast  importance  in  international  rela- 
tions, the  tendency  of  nations  now  is  toward  a 
saner  devotion  of  the  wisdom  of  mankind  than 
to  destruction. 

Some  idea  of  the  hugeness  and  scope  of  the  or- 
ganization of  the  Grand  Fleet  in  1918,  while  the 
American  Battle  Squadron  formed  a  part  of  it, 
may  be  had  from  the  table  given  below,  which,  I 
believe,  is  the  first  public  presentation  of  Beatty's 
divisions  of  ships,  with  their  respective  armaments: 


THE  TEETH  OF  BEATTY'S  BULLDOGS       155 

FLEET  FLAGSHIP "QUEEN  ELIZABETH" 

Commander-in-Chief — Admiral  Beatty.   Attached  dispatch  vessel — Oak 


First  Division 
Revenge 
Resolution 
Royal  Sovereign 
Royal  Oak 
Ramillies  (spare) 


FIRST  BATTLE  SQUADRON 
Admiral  Madden 


Eight-15"  guns 
>Twelve-6"  guns 
speed  21  kts. 


Second  Division 
Emperor  of  India 
Benhow 
Marlborough 
Iron  Duke 
Canada  (spare) 


Attached  cruiser — Blonde,  27  kts. 


|Ten-13.5"guns 
>Twelve-6"  guns 
1  speed  22  kts. 


Third  Division 

11.  Orion  ^ 

12.  Monarch  { 
IS.  Conqueror  ( 
14.     Thunderer  J 


SECOND  BATTLE  SQUADRON 
Vice  Admiral  De  Robeck 


Ten-13.5"  guns 
Sixteen-4"  guns 
speed  22  kts. 


15. 
16. 
17. 
18. 
19. 


Fourth  Division 

King  George  V 

Ajax 

Centurion 

Erin 

Agincourt  (spare) 


I  Ten-1 


-13.5"  guns 
■  Sixteen— 4"  guns 
speed  22  kts. 


Attached  cruiser — Bellona,  27  kts. 


Fifth  Division 
Colossus 
Superb 
Bellerophon 
Temeraire 


] 


FOURTH  BATTLE  SQUADRON 
Admiral  Sturdee 

Sixth  Division 
Ten-1 2"  guns  24.     Hercules 

Sixteen-4"  guns  ]         25      Collingwood 
speed  21  kts  26.     Neptune 

27.     St.  Vincent 
Attached  cruisers — Boadicea,  27  kts. 

King  Orry  (special) 


(  Ten-12"  guns 
(Sixteen-4"  guns 
J  speed  21  kts. 


FIFTH  BATTLE  SQUADRON 
Vice  Admiral  Evan-Thomas 


28.  Barham 

29.  Malaya 
SO.  Valiant 
81.     Warspite 

[  (Flag)    Queen  Elizabeth 
Attached 


I           \     Eight-15' 
!            >     Twelve-6' 
te        I     speed  21  k 
ibeth  J 
Ached  cruiser 


guns 
.  ' guns 
kts. 


82. 
SS. 
S4. 
85. 
86. 


New  York 

Texas 

Wyoming 

Florida 

Delaware 


SIXTH  BATTLE  SQUADRON 
Rear  Admiral  Rodman 


%  Ten-14"guns       ■^  "\ 

>  Twelve-12"  guns  >  Eighteeii-5"  guns       >  speed  21  ktsT 

I  Ten-12"  guns         I  f  ..       »    .. 

J  Ten  12"  guns        J  J  "      "    - 


Twelve-12''  guns 
Ten-12"  guns 
Ten  12"  guns 

Attached  cruiser — Blanche 


156  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 


THIRD  BATTLE  SQUADRON 
Older  ships  used  for  bombarding  not  based  with  Grand  Fleet, 


First  Division 
Dreadnaught 

Commonwealth 

Dominion 

Hindustan 


Ten-12"  guns 
24-1  pdrs. 
Four-12"  guns 
"    -9.2"  guns 
24-12  pdrs. 
speed  18  kts. 


Second  Division 

1.  Zealandia 

2.  Africa 

3.  Hibernia 

4.  Britannia 


} 


Four  12"  guns 
"  -9.2"  guns 
24-12  pdrs. 
speed  18  kts. 


BATTLE  CRUISERS 
Vice  Admiral  Packinham 


First  Division 
Lion 
Princess  Royal 

Tiger  i 
Repulse 
Renown 


Eight-18.5"  guns 
Sixteen-4"  guns 
Eight-13.5"  guns,  speed  28. 
Eight-15"  (A)  guns,  83  kts. 
Eight-15"  (A)  guns,  33  kts. 


CRUISERS 
Vice  Admiral  Napier 

First  Cruiser  Squadron  Second  Cruiser  Squadron 

1.  Courageous         \     Four-15"  (A)  guns  1.    Minotaur 

2.  Glorious  }     speed  36  kts.  2.     Shannon 

3.  Furious*  3.     Cochrane 

4.     Achilles 
•Airplane  Carrier. 

LIGHT  CRUISERS 

light  Cruisers  are  armed  with  both  10-6"  and  4"  guns  and  torpedo  tubes.    Speeds  80  kts., 

or  above 


First  Light  Cruiser  Squadron 

1.  Caledon  (Flag) 

2.  Royalist 
8.     Oalcdea 

4.  Phaeton 

5.  Inconstant 


Second  Light  Cruiser  Squadron 

1.  Birmingham  (Flag) 

2.  Southampton 

3.  Dublin 

4.  Sydney 

5.  Melbourne 


Third  Light  Cruiser  Squadron 

1.  Chatham  (Flag) 

2.  Birkenhead 
8.     Chester 

4i.     Yarmouth 

5.     Weymouth  (Mediterranean) 


Fourth  Light  Cruiser  Squadron 

1.  Calliope  (Flag) 

2.  Cordelia 

3.  Cambrian 

4.  Constance 
6.  Comus 

6.  Caroline 


Fifth  Light  Cruiser  Squadron 

1.  Curacao 

2.  Curlew 

3.  Concord 

4.  Cleopatra 

5.  Coventry 

6.  Centaur 

7.  Canterbury 

8.  Conquest 


Sixth  Light  Cruiser  Squadron 
1.     Cardiff  (Flag) 
St.     Cassandra 
8.     Ceres 
4.     Calypso 
6.    Caradoe 


THE  TEETH  OF  BEATTY'S  BULLDOGS       157 

LIGHT  CRUISERS — (Continued) 

Seventh  Light  Cruiser  Squadron  Tenth  Light  Cruiser  Squadron 

1.  Cary sport  1.  Alsatian  \  Base  at  Liverpool 

2.  Aurora  2.  Teutonic  f      Operate    outside 

3.  Penelope  3  Owieto  >      of  Ireland. 

4.  Undaunted  4.  Amsterdam  I  Armed  with  6"  & 

5.    Duke  of  Cornwall  }      9.2"  guns. 

Seaplane  Carriers  Mine  Layers 

1.  Campania  'V  1.  Paris 

2.  Pegasus  I  2.  Princess  Margaret 

3.  Nariana  I  ^^^  «,  .  ^  8.  W^aAinc 

4.  Fendox  (  "P®®**  **  '^^'        4.  Angora 

5.  Argus  I  5.  London 

6.  Canning,  Balloon  Ship  J 

Submarine  Parent  Ships  Repair  Ships 

1.  Active  1.     Constance 

2.  Fearless  2.     Cyclops 
8.     Champion 

Destroyer  Flotilla 

1.  Ca«tor 

2.  Commodore 

Destroyer  Repair  Ships  Station  Ships 

1.  Greenwich  1.  floyai  Arthur 

2.  fiZaifcc  2.  ImpSrieuse 
8.  IFoo/uncA  3.  Victorious 
4.    Sandust  4.     Bonaventura 

Note:  No  attempt  has  been  made  to  classify  the  myriad  of  destroyers  and  the  submarme, 
vhich  make  up  the  Grand  Fleet  Escort. 

The  smoothness  with  which  this  organization 
worked,  the  exquisite  manner  in  which  the  squad- 
rons manoeuvred  and  deployed,  the  precision  of 
their  drills,  their  endurance  and  the  eflSciency  of 
the  crews,  speak  decidedly  to  the  effect  that  the 
operation  of  and  coordination  in  the  fleet  kept 
pace  with  its  expansion  to  meet  the  demands  of  the 
war.  The  Grand  Fleet  had  two  great  tasks  to 
perform,  and  it  performed  them  not  alone  with 
credit  and  honour,  but  with  profit  to  all  the  world. 
It  was  the  Grand  Fleet's  task,  first,  to  sweep  the 
German  Flag  from  the  seven  seas;  and,  second,  to 
blockade  the  German  Empire.     How  well  the  job 


158  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

was  done  needs  neither  question  nor  comment. 
The  relentless  pressure  of  superior  sea  power, 
without  even  a  great  and  decisive  naval  battle, 
gave  to  the  Allies  the  freedom  of  the  seas,  per- 
mitted the  organization  and  transportation  of  their 
armies,  and  resulted  at  last  in  the  accomplishment 
of  that  end  which,  by  our  histories,  was  shown  to  be 
inevitable.  Organization  and  cooperation  made 
the  Grand  Fleet  a  great  fighting  force  but  the 
squadrons  of  that  fleet  were  composed  of  unit  ships, 
in  which  man  had  placed,  as  Ruskin  put  it  long 
ago,  "As  much  of  his  human  patience,  common 
sense,  forethought,  experimental  philosophy,  self- 
control,  habits  of  order  and  obedience,  thorough- 
wrought  handiwork,  defiance  of  brute  elements, 
careless  courage,  careful  patriotism,  and  calm  ac- 
ceptance of  the  judgment  of  God  as  could  well  be 
put  into  a  space  five  hundred  feet  long  by  eighty 
broad." 


CHAPTER  X 

"COMRADES  OF  THE  MIST" 

THE  BRITISH  BATTLE  CRUISERS.      THE  SPIRIT  OF  H.  M.  S. 
"renown."      ARMISTICE   NIGHT  IN  THE  GRAND    FLEET. 

Down  through  the  years  that  are  to  come 

When  we've  gone  our  several  ways. 
To  the  farthest  corners  of  the  earth. 

That  bask  in  the  sun's  warm  rays. 
We'll  dream  of  the  days  when  we  were  part 

Of  Britain's  strong  mailed  fist — 
When  we  kept  the  sea  and  nations  free. 

With  our  Comrades  of  the  Mist, 

THE  great  steel  spans  of  the  Forth  Bridge 
broke  dimly  through  the  cold  December 
mist  which  lingered  over  the  firth.  For 
several  minutes  nothing  else  was  visible,  for  the  pall 
of  gray  had  settled  low  enough  to  blot  from  the 
rising  sun  the  power  of  Britain's  Southern  Fleet. 
Gradually  the  belching  chimneys  at  the  Rosyth 
dockyard  pierced  the  veil,  as  our  ships  proceeded 
slowly  up  the  firth,  and  then  gray  shapes  began  to 
loom  before  us.  A  visitor  to  the  Grand  Fleet  is 
struck  by  many  wonders.  He  may  be  most  deeply 
impressed  by  the  intricate  mechanism  of  a  modern 
submarine,  or  it  may  be  by  the  dashing  speed  of  a 
new  destroyer.     Perhaps  the  airplane  carriers  and 


160  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

kite  balloons  attract  him,  or  he  may  contend  the 
nicety  of  the  torpedo  is  unexcelled.  Some  feel 
the  power  of  the  dreadnaught's  battery  is  the  main 
feature,  or  possibly  the  wireless  control.  Others 
think  that  without  her  great  screen  of  light  cruisers, 
the  fingers  of  attack,  the  Grand  Fleet  would  be 
crippled.  But,  after  weighing  all  departments  of 
the  Grand  Fleet's  power  and  giving  each  its 
due,  to  me  one  group  appeals  above  the  rest, 
those  ships  whose  sleek  hulls  loomed  through  the 
misty  Firth  of  Forth  on  that  December  morning 
when,  for  the  first  time,  the  American  Battle 
Squadron  gazed  astoundedly  at  the  British  battle 
cruisers. 

For  months  we  lay  at  moor  beside  these  mon- 
archs  of  the  fleet  below  the  great  Forth  Bridge  and 
always  on  my  mind  will  be  their  graceful  power  as 
they  rode  there  to  the  tide,  ready  for  the  frequent 
dashes  to  sea.  They  were  the  Lion^  famous  as 
Beatty's  flagship  in  the  Jutland  fight,  shell- 
scarred  and  dull  from  service;  the  three-stacked 
Tiger  (which  the  Germans  claim  to  have  sunk  long 
since),  showing  her  beautifully  proportioned  lines; 
the  Princess  Royal,  sister  of  the  ill-fated  Queen 
Mary  which  was  sunk  at  Jutland;  and  the  two 
canoe-like  marvels  of  the  naval  world,  the  Glorious 
and  Courageous,  stretching  their  great  knife  lengths 
in  column,  every  line  bespeaking  their  tremendous 
speed.  But  just  across  the  channel  from  the 
New  York  lay  the  greatest  of  them  all,  those  two 


Admiral  Beatty  of  the  Flagship  Lion 
As  he  appeared  when  in  command  of  the  battle  cruisers  at  Jutland,  1916 


"COMRADES  OF  THE  MIST"  161 

war-products  of  naval  genius  called  the  "hush" 
ships,  Repulse  and  Renown,  Between  these  mighty 
sisters  there  is  little  choice,  albeit  certain  ships 
within  a  fleet  are  wont  to  pal  together.  For  a 
ship  is  not  known  by  her  power  or  size  or  speed  or 
compliment  within  a  fleet,  nor  even  by  her  in- 
dividual ofiicers  or  men.  She  is  characterized  as 
"happy"  or  "unhappy,"  "good"  or  "bad,"  ac- 
cording to  the  spirit  which  prevails  within  her 
hull;  upon  the  congeniality  of  her  officers,  and  the 
manner  in  which  they  get  response  from  their 
crew.  These  factors  determine  the  ship's  success. 
And  so,  because  they  proved  exceptionally  "happy" 
the  New  York's  closest  comrades  abroad  were  the 
Repulse  and  the  Renown. 

Picture  the  majesty  of  those  two  monsters  ly- 
ing there  beside  us,  the  very  flower  of  Britain's 
power!  Built  in  secret  during  the  war,  they  were 
the  largest  and  newest  warships  of  the  British  navy. 
For  seven  hundred  and  thirty-seven  feet  each 
keenly  drawn-out  hull  extended  in  the  firth,  dis- 
placing thirty-five  thousand  tons.  Their  tested 
speed  is  above  thirty  knots  an  hour,  backed  by  a 
main  armament  of  six  fifteen-inch  guns.  They 
are  called  "Fifteen  (A)"  guns,  which  means  they 
are  nearer  seventeen  than  fifteen  inches  across  the 
bore.  Mounted  in  triple  groups  along  the  centre 
line  are  fifteen  four-inch  guns.  High  in  the  super- 
structure, with  an  arc  of  train  on  either  side,  this 
bristling  armament  bodes  ill  for  an  enemy  sub- 


162  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

marine  or  destroyer.  Four  rapid-firing  anti-air- 
craft guns  and  eight  submerged  torpedo  tubes  com- 
plete the  battery.  Poised  on  a  turret  platform, 
fore  and  aft,  two  scouting  airplanes  rest,  ready  to 
jump  to  their  errands  on  instant  notice.  Search- 
lights dot  the  heavy  superstructure,  occupying  al- 
most every  bridgewing,  capable  of  blotting  out 
the  chance  of  enemy  escape.  For  the  striking 
feature  of  these  monsters  is  that  they  are  built  to 
hunt  and  not  to  be  hunted.  Two  of  the  three  huge 
gun-turrets  are  mounted  forward  on  the  long  grace- 
ful sheer  of  the  three-hundred-foot  forecastle  deck 
which  gives  a  wonderful  ease  of  entrance  in  a  sea, 
and  seems  to  combine  their  power  with  their  grace. 
" There, "  says  the  critic,  "you  have  the  last  word  in 
the  construction  of  fighting  ships.  They  may  be 
offensive  or  defensive  at  will." 

In  the  wardrooms  of  these  ships  the  New  York's 
officers  found  their  closest  comrades.  They  seemed 
to  be  selected  for  their  "pep,"  these  battle-cruiser 
people,  that  they  might  better  cope  with  their 
arduous  duties.  Whenever  we  would  go  aboard 
we  found  a  welcome  and  a  "cheero"  that  kept  us 
on  our  toes  to  reciprocate.  True,  indeed  are  the 
lines  which  run: 


They  say  it  when  they  take  a  drink- 

Cheer-0! 
They  say  it  in  their  sleep,  I  think — 

Cheer-Ol 


"COMRADES  OF  THE  MIST"  163 

They'll  say  it  when  they  meet  the  Hun, 
They'll  fire  it  with  the  opening  gun, 
They'll  sing  it  when  the  battle's  won — 
Cheer-0! 

We  took  the  battle-cruiser  officers  aboard  and 
showed  them  all  we  had.  They  did  the  same,  ex- 
actly. One  day  I  went  with  the  Renown  to  her 
battle  manoeuvres  in  the  outer  firth.  For  the 
first  time  I  saw  the  graceful  airplanes  hop  daintily 
from  a  turret-top.  Then  a  torpedo  attack  was 
executed  by  British  submarines  at  2,500  yards, 
which  we  successfully  though  narrowly  avoided  by 
observation  from  the  kite  balloon.  The  ease  with 
which  that  huge  ship  could  be  swung,  in  response  to 
the  directions  to  the  bridge  from  the  balloon,  elim- 
inates all  doubt  that  clumsiness  may  result  from 
such  great  size.  Subcalibre  firing  at  short  range 
concluded  the  day's  drills,  during  which  exercise 
I  visited  every  fire-control  department  from  the 
lower  shell  rooms  of  the  turrets  and  the  plotting 
room,  to  the  conning  tower  and  the  spotting  tops. 
Their  huge  hydraulic  system  and  tremendous  guns 
made  our  electrically  controlled  fourteen-inch  bat- 
tery seem  like  a  plaything.  For,  having  proven  that 
hydraulic  mechanism  can  be  relied  upon  in  action, 
the  British  have  not  touched  the  field  of  electricity 
as  have  Americans.  That  feature  of  our  ships 
proved  most  absorbing  to  our  British  visitors. 

Adjacent  to  the  wardroom  in  the  Renown  was 
placed  a  lounging  saloon.     Huge  easy  chairs,  deep 


164  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

couches,  and  an  open  coal  grate,  always  burning, 
made  this  a  favourite  spot  for  making  friends  and 
swapping  tales.  Even  a  billiard  table  had  been 
added  to  the  fixtures  of  this  cabin,  which,  with  its 
spacious  headroom  and  huge  ports  seemed  more 
like  part  of  an  ocean  liner  than  a  battle  cruiser. 
Here,  to  the  ever-ready  clink  of  glasses,  I  heard 
the  commander  tell  the  story  of  his  rescue  in  the 
Jutland  fight,  when  he  had  been  picked  up,  one  of 
three  survivors  from  the  fifteen  hundred  who  had 
manned  the  ill-fated  Invincible  when  she  blew  up. 
Here  a  major  of  marines  related  the  details  of  the 
landing  on  Zeebrugge  mole,  for,  with  two  gun 
crews  wiped  out  beneath  him  on  the  Vindictive, 
he  had  jumped  on  to  the  mole  with  a  group  of  men 
in  time  to  silence  a  machine  gun.  The  story  of  the 
decoy  of  a  German  submarine  by  a  British  sub- 
marine while  a  second  British  sub  stole  up  and  sank 
the  German  from  astern  was  vividly  related,  as 
well  as  the  story  of  the  patrol  diver  who  had  tapped 
a  message  in  Morse  code  on  a  resting  sub's  hull  at 
the  bottom,  bringing  her  quickly  to  the  top,  sur- 
rendering. These  and  a  score  of  such  tales  always 
could  easily  be  drawn  out,  unless  they  happened  to 
reflect  credit  on  the  speaker.  Then  one  met  with 
reticence  for,  "^ 

Ask  a  British  naval  officer  to  talk  about  himself. 
And  you'll  get  a  change  of  subject — that  is  all. 
Ask  a  British  naval  officer  to  talk  about  his  mate 
And  he'll  back  you  up  against  the  nearest  wall. 


"COMRADES  OF  THE  MIST"  165 

One  evening  a  lieutenant  of  Admiral  Sims's 
staff,  a  great  friend  of  mine,  came  to  us  on  duty 
from  London.  Since  he  had  not  really  seen  a  Grand 
Fleet  ship,  I  took  him  to  dine  in  the  Renown,  He 
could  not  have  picked  a  better  occasion,  for  this 
was  the  night  of  the  squadron  regatta  and  the  boats 
of  the  Renown  had  crossed  the  line  in  the  van. 
Somehow  the  story  of  that  evening's  adventure 
reached  a  London  *' weekly,"  and  was  thus  amus- 
ingly described  to  evade  the  rules  of  censorship. 
The  parentheses  are  mine: 

A  tale  of  the  sea  is  not  as  a  rule  supposed  to  display  a  taste 
exactly  for  faultless  fact,  but  the  one  I  propose  to  tell  you 
is  really  true,  and  will  show  you  how,  and  why,  it  is  that 
Britannia  still  rules  the  waves — and  incidentally  what  price- 
less lads  the  young  sea-lions  of  the  senior  service  are  when 
they  are  properly  in  their  stride.  It  was  aboard  H.  M.  S. 
Dernier  Cri  (the  Renown)  ^  sister  ship  of  H.  M.  S.  Last  Word 
(the  Repulse)  y  two  bateaux  of  the  Grand  Fleet  of  which  I 
retain  the  happiest  memories,  that  this  thrilling  episode 
occurred.  Figurez-vous  the  night  of  the  day  of  the  victory 
in  an  aquatic  contest  in  the  small  boats  of  H.  M.  S.  Dernier 
Cri  {Renown)  and  the  hitherto  head  of  the  northern  base, 
the  star  crew  of  H.  M.  S.  Ermy  One  (the  Lion):  the  celebration 
is  in  full  blast  after  the  manner,  familiar  to  any  one  who  has 
ever  assisted  at  what  is  called  a  "rag"  (roughhouse).  It  is 
done  in  both  services,  also  at  school  dinners,  and  people  have 
been  known  to  be  sent  home  good  imitations  of  Highlandmen. 
However!  In  one  of  the  spacious  cabins  allotted  to  the  use 
of  the  wardroom,  the  First  Luff  (Lieutenant  Glover,  1st  Lieu- 
tenant), another  equally  important  naval  officer  and  two 
distinguished  American  visitors  (Lieutenant  McLintock  and 


166  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN^ 

I),  were  playing  at  what  I  will  now  call  auction — only  it 
didn't  happen  to  be. 

About  the  hour  when  spectres  walk  and  all  good  people 
should  be  abed,  up  comes  the  smallest  Snotty  (midshipman) 
of  H.  M.  S.  Dernier  Cri  with  the  request  that  the  First  Luff 
and  his  guests  should  do  the  gunroom  mess  (Junior  Officers* 
mess)  the  honour  of  coming  down  to  quaff  a  glass  to  cele- 
brate the  victory  in  the  aforementioned  aquatic  contest. 
The  First  Luff  said  he  would  be  pleased,  and  would  be  with 
them  in  half  an  hour  to  the  tick. 

The  thirty  minutes  having  expired,  the  distinguished 
guests  set  out  on  their  journey  to  the  abode  of  those  future 
Jellicoes  and  Beattys;  but  they  had  not  gone  far  when  from 
behind  every  stanchion,  cowl,  or  other  place  of  concealment 
emerged  a  ragged  mob  of  semi-nude  Snotties,  all  of  whom  I 
must  say  had  their  trousers  on,  but  not  much  else — and, 
alas  that  I  should  have  to  relate  it,  there  ensued  such  a  tussle 
as  has  never  been  seen  or  heard  of  since  those  bad  lads  tried 
to  drag  a  certain  hairy  old  prophet  out  of  his  cave.  The 
First  Luff  put  up  as  good  a  fight  as  he  could,  but  his  American 
guests  thought  that  it  was  a  modern  instance  of  Mutiny  at 
the  Nore,  and  were  vastly  alarmed  till  the  humour  of  it  was 
explained.  In  these  celebration  "rags,"  seniority  is  ignored 
and  the  midshipman  wrecks  revenge  upon  the  iron  hand  that 
ordinarily  rules  him!  This  is  not  all.  Next  day  an  account 
of  the  engagement  was  sent  in  in  the  most  approved  official 
language,  and  at  the  end  of  it  was  the  following:  "Acci- 
dentally injured,  one  Naval  Officer;  severe  wounds  to  leg 
and  nose."  If  you  want  to  know  why  it  is  Germany  is  never 
going  to  rule  the  seas,  just  think  this  little  yarn  over. 

The  greatest  time  of  all  took  place  on  Armistice 
Night.  Never  has  the  Grand  Fleet  so  demon- 
strated; never  will  it  do  so  again.    At  exactly  noon 


"COMRADES  OF  THE  MIST"  167 

of  November  twelfth  we  had  the  message  which 
confirmed  our  fears.  The  news  was  met  not  with 
the  joy  that  should  have  been  awaiting,  but  with  a 
sullen  realization  that  the  end  had  come  without 
the  blow  of  our  ambition.  Gradually,  however, 
as  the  news  flashed  round  the  world,  its  tremend- 
ous meaning  was  absorbed.  When  evening  came 
the  pent-up  feelings  of  the  fleet  broke  loose  with  one 
accord — this  was  the  end  at  last — ^Armistice  Night ! 
A  general  signal  was  broadcasted  from  Comman- 
der-in-Chief, Grand  Fleet: 

The  Armistice  commenced  at  11:00  to-day,  Monday,  and 
the  customary  method  in  His  Majesty's  service  of  celebrating 
an  occasion  is  to  be  carried  out  by  ships*  companies  spHcing 
the  main  brace  at  9  p.  m.  to-day.  Hands  are  to  make  and 
mend  clothes. 

Which  means,  translated,  that  at  that  hour 
drinks  are  to  be  on  the  King — ^go  to  it!  Not  since 
the  Coronation  had  that  signal  been  made.  It 
was  the  lash  to  which  the  fleet  sprang  into  action. 
For  miles  along  the  firth  the  whistles  of  ships  of 
every  sort  commenced  to  spit  and  scream  in  a  hun- 
dred keys.  They  spelled  the  words  "Peace"  and 
"Victory"  and  a  half  score  others  in  international 
code.  Then  some  one  started  a  ship's  bell,  and 
within  five  minutes  every  bell  in  the  fleet  clanged 
out.  Sirens  followed  these,  in  a  bellowing,  howling 
medley  of  tones  that  must  have  carried  miles  to 
sea.      The  men  of  the  fleet  swarmed  to  the  decks, 


168  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODIMAN 

brought  pots  and  pans  and  tins,  formed  mighty 
snakes  of  human  forms,  and  shouting  and  cheering 
to  the  blare  of  trumpets  and  bugles  and  trombones, 
they  galloped  and  frolicked  from  stern  to  stern. 
An  incessant  din  was  raised  and  sustained.  The 
riotous  fleet  knew  no  bounds.  Darkness  fell,  but 
without  effect  except  that  the  gloom  was  split  by 
the  rays  of  a  thousand  dancing  searchlight  beams. 
For  miles  the  sky  was  light  as  day,  for  every  search- 
light afloat  and  ashore  streamed  upward  to  the 
heavens  and  was  lost.  Then  from  the  bridge  of 
every  ship  rockets  and  star  shells  shot  upward, 
bursting  their  fire  into  the  sky.  Flares  and  ' '  Very ' ' 
signals  covered  the  firth  with  a  bright  red  glow, 
as  the  deafening  din  continued.  Floating  from 
every  fighting  top  huge  flags  of  the  Allies  fluttered 
in  the  breeze,  standing  out  in  the  searchlight  beams 
which  focussed  on  them,  banners  of  victory.  Bands 
could  be  heard  above  the  shouting  and  the  cheers, 
striking  out  one  national  anthem  after  another, 
with  a  fire  they  never  have  possessed  before  or 
since.  For  even  the  voices  of  men  had  lost  their 
sanity. 

In  the  midst  of  it  all  I  left  the  ship  in  a  crowded 
fifty-footer.  A  searchlight  caught  and  followed 
us  to  the  Valiant,  of  the  Fifth  Battle  Squadron. 
We  were  cheered  to  the  side  and  welcomed  in  arms 
on  her  quarterdeck,  while  her  band  danced  wildly 
as  it  played  the  Star  Spangled  Banner.  The  Amer- 
icans had  come  to  celebrate  the  victory  with  those 


"COMRADES  OF  THE  MIST"  ICO 

who  were  to  have  been  their  comrades  in  the  fight. 
A  wild  hour  of  hilarity  we  spent  there,  then  we 
"shoved  off"  in  a  riot  of  cheers,  to  the  Renown. 
The  spirit  of  that  great  ship  ran  wild.  In  gang- 
dances  we  shouted  gang-songs — captains  and  mid- 
shipmen, commanders  and  ensigns  all  joined  to- 
gether as  one.  We  drank  toasts  to  the  President, 
toasts  to  the  King,  toasts  to  our  Union,  and  curses 
to  the  enemy.  Far  into  the  night,  long  after  quiet 
had  settled  on  the  lower  firth,  the  oflicers  of  the 
Grand  Fleet  carried  on  their  programme.  Friend- 
ship and  comradeship  were  so  strengthened  that 
night,  that  those  who  were  there  will  for  ever  stand 
firm  for  the  brotherhood  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race. 
Together  we  had  toiled,  together  we  had  won  the 
cause,  together  in  victory  we  would  ever  stand. 

Reflecting  on  this  spirit  of  unity  which  obtained 
between  the  officers  of  the  fleet,  it  seems  more  and 
more  to  have  resulted  from  an  awakening  of  under- 
standing. The  Americans  had  fostered  a  distorted 
conception  of  the  British  officers,  just  as  they  had 
of  us.  A  French  staff-officer  expressed  his  feeling 
thus,  when  asked  for  his  impressions:  "We  like  the 
American  officers  very  much.  In  fact,  they  have 
given  us  a  most  pleasant  surprise.  They  have  not 
displayed  the  least  tendency  to  show  us  how  to  run 
the  war.  Indeed,  they're  not  in  the  least  Ameri- 
can." That  was  precicely  the  sentiment  among 
our  comrades  of  the  Grand  Fleet.  They  thought 
we  were  not  American  because  we  did  not  conform 


170  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

to  their  distorted  ideas  of  Americans.  And  we 
learned  the  same  of  them,  for  the  very  persons 
whom  we  thought  would  be  self-centred  "Limys," 
turned  out  to  be  the  very  "salt  of  the  earth."  So 
completely  did  our  squadron  merge  into  their  fleet 
that  we  became  a  part  of  it  and  ceased  to  be  held 
as  anything  else.  In  our  ships  we  served  tea,  had 
dinner  late,  spoke  in  abbreviations,  signalled, 
drilled,  and  manoeuvred  in  the  British  way  as 
nearly  as  we  could.  In  British  ships  the  officers 
were  organizing  jazz  bands,  dancing  "jazz,"  using 
our  slang,  drinking  iced  drinks,  shouting  our  navy 
yells,  and  discussing  our  fire  control.  The  Grand 
Fleet  had  become  no  longer  that  of  Britain  alone. 
It  was  the  Grand  Fleet  of  the  English-speaking 
nations,  bound  in  an  enduring  brotherhood,  that 
sailed  to  meet  the  conquered  Hun. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  SURRENDER  OF  THE  GERMAN  FLEET 

Their  dull  hulks  loom  against  the  gloom 

Of  the  fog  hank's  dismal  gray. 
Their  pace  so  slow  we  scarcely  know 

The  ships  are  under  way. 

The  smoke,  dead  black,  creeps  from  the  stack 

And  hangs  in  a  listless  pall; 
Black  standards  drape  like  funeral  crepe 

And  death  lies  over  all. 

The  silent  guns  of  the  sullen  Huns 

No  more  their  voices  use: 
Yet  mute,  acclaim  the  burning  shame 

Of  the  High  Sea  Fleet's  last  cruise, 

—E,  E.  Wilson 

ON  THE  first  day  of  June,  1813,  the  Ameri- 
can frigate  Chesapeake  sailed  out  of  Boston 
Harbour  under  command  of  Captain 
James  Lawrence.  The  more  powerful  British  frigate 
Shannon  under  Captain  Broke,  lay  just  outside. 
Lawrence  at  once  engaged  Broke  and  the  ships  fell 
aboard  shortly  after  opening  fire.  Lawrence  fell, 
mortally  wounded.  As  he  was  carried  below 
those  clarion  words  were  on  his  lips  that  have  re- 
sounded through  the  years — "Don't  give  up  the 
ship!"     Spain  heard  them.     Her  Admiral  Mon- 

171 


172  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

tojo,  against  overwhelming  odds,  fought  Admiral 
Dewey  at  Manila  Bay  until  the  last  Spanish  ship 
had  been  sunk  or  destroyed.  Russia  heard  them. 
Admiral  Makarov,  commanding  the  Russian  fleet 
at  Port  Arthur,  took  his  ships  to  sea  in  pursuit  of 
the  Japanese  Cruiser  Squadron,  daring  a  field  of 
electro-mechanical  mines  which,  on  his  return  to 
port,  effectively  destroyed  him.  England  heard 
them.  Admiral  Cradock,  with  three  miserable 
cruisers,  ran  across  Von  Spec's  squadron  of  five 
ships  oflf  Coronel  on  the  coast  of  Chile.  Despite 
every  disadvantage  Cradock  signalled:  "I  am  go- 
ing to  engage  the  enemy  now."  Von  Spec's  vic- 
tory was  complete,  but  he  captured  not  a  ship ! 

What  German  knows  the  dying  words  of  Law- 
rence? 

On  the  twenty-first  day  of  November,  1918,  at 
10:38  A.  M.,  there  flashed  by  wireless  from  Sir 
David  Beatty's  flagship  Queen  Elizabeth^  a  signal: 

To  Admiralty,  from  Commander-in-chief,  Grand  Fleet. 

The  Grand  Fleet  met  this  morning  at  9:20,  five  battle 
cruisers,  nine  battleships,  seven  light  cruisers,  and  forty- 
nine  destroyers  of  the  High  Seas  Fleet  which  surrendered  for 
internment  and  are  being  brought  to  Firth  of  Forth. 

Four  years  had  passed.  Some  hundred  thou- 
sand men  had  waited  in  vain.  Waited,  watched, 
served,  and  striven — in  vain.  Day  after  day  their 
incessant  drills,  studies,  toils,  had  brought  their 
finished  product  up  to  heights  unhoped  for  in  the 


SURRENDER  OF  THE  GERMAN  FLEET     173 

days  of  peace.  Time  after  time  the  long  lines  of 
gray  monsters  had  slipped  hopefully  out,  had 
searched,  had  tempted,  and  save  once,  had  cruised 
in  vain. 

Small  wonder  that  four  a.  m.  of  November  21, 
1918,  found  few  asleep  in  all  the  fleet.  This 
was  the  day!  No  secrecy;  no  doubt.  The  world 
knew.  The  King  himself  had  come  but  yesterday 
to  acclaim  the  triumph  that  must  be  ours  to-day. 
Too  vast  a  situation  well  to  comprehend — ^the 
German  High  Seas  Fleet  had  sailed  from  Kiel! 
And  the  King  had  come.  Hundreds  of  strangers 
were  aboard  our  ships.  A  flush  of  excitement  cov- 
ered every  face,  held  back  by  a  forbidding  silence 
that  seemed  to  suspend  the  motion  of  the  very 
earth. 

From  early  evening  long  lines  of  destroyers  had 
preceded  us  to  sea,  hours  and  hours  of  them,  out 
of  the  misty  Firth  of  Forth,  followed  by  envious 
eyes.  Every  official  ship  that  could  turn  a  screw 
would  follow  shortly.  Shortly!  The  hours  were 
ages  long.  It  was  not  until  two  a.  m.  that  the 
greatest  day  of  our  lives  began.  The  day  of  a 
thousand  dreams.  We  seemed  to  be  living  within 
a  highly  inflated  bubble,  about  to  burst.  The 
American  flagship  New  York  broke  moor,  swung 
slowly  with  the  tide,  felt  the  trobbing  of  her 
screws,  fell  into  line  to  lead  the  Sixth  Battle  Squad- 
ron to  sea. 

Out  of  the  firth;  out  of  the  fog.     Gray  ships  in 


174   BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

a  gray  dawn.  Ships  and  ships  and  ships,  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  see,  ahead  or  astern.  Great  monsters 
rising  and  falhng  on  the  incoming  swells,  by  their 
very  stateliness  acclaiming  victory.  At  four  a.  m. 
our  general  alarm  clanged  harshly  against  the  quiet 
dawn  producing  on  the  great  ship  the  same  effect 
as  a  club  on  a  quiet  beehive  in  the  summer  sun. 
All  hands  to  battle  stations!  A  few  moments 
bustling  rush — then  quiet  again.  Quite  different 
now.  Each  gun  is  manned.  Every  man  is  at  his 
post.  The  powder  bins  are  filled  and  shells  are 
up.  Range  finders  scan  the  horizon,  and  lookouts 
swing  their  glasses  in  wide  arcs  for  smoke.  Three 
decks  below  the  water  line  men  sit  with  'phones, 
tubes,  boards,  pencils,  and  strange  instruments, 
connected  with  the  conning  tower.  The  plotting 
room.  The  centre  of  control  of  fire.  No  "  Wooden 
Horse  of  Troy,"  for  Admiral  Beatty.  Not  the 
slightest  chance  for  Hunnish  trickery.  The  des- 
tiny of  nations  is  at  stake.  He  has  the  German 
guaranties — ^but  he  treats  them  as  the  German 
would,  "Mere  scraps  of  paper."  Perhaps  they 
seek  to  take  the  Grand  Fleet  unawares?  They  will 
find  them  firing  deadly  salvos  thirty  seconds  after 
the  first  sign  of  treachery.  The  Grand  Fleet 
steams  on. 

At  last  dawn  comes,  blazing  red.  A  low  haze 
cuts  the  visibility  to  five. short  miles,  but  the  rising 
sun  reveals  a  new  disposition  of  our  forces.  Ad- 
miral Beatty  has  divided  his  ships  into  two  great 


SURRENDER  OF  THE  GERMAN  FLEET     175 

lines — ^the  northern  and  the  southern.  These  two 
Knes,  proceeding  on  parallel  courses,  about  two 
miles  apart,  will  permit  the  German  fleet  to  pass 
down  their  centre.  A  "Ships  right  and  left 
about"  will  then  bring  both  lines  steaming  in  in- 
verted order  toward  the  Firth  of  Forth,  the  Ger- 
man line  between.  Either  of  our  lines,  without 
the  other,  could  engage  the  surrendering  German 
fleet  successfully. 

On  we  steam  at  twelve  knots  to  point  "X"  in  the 
North  Sea.  Eight  bells  strikes  clearly.  We  know 
the  great  moment  is  not  far  distant  now,  and  by 
the  imposing  spectacle  are  reassured.     At  last: 

"  Sail  ho ! ' ' — ^f rom  the  f oretop  lookout.  "  Where 
away.f^" — from  the  bridge.  "One  point  off  the 
starboard  bow,"  in  reply.  "Can  you  make  it 
out?"  "Dense  smoke,  sir,  seems  to  be  approach- 
ing." 

Twenty-five  minutes  later  the  tiny  light  cruiser 
Cardiff,  towing  a  kite  balloon,  leads  the  great 
German  battle  cruiser  Seydlitz,  at  the  head  of  her 
column,  between  our  lines.  On  they  pass — Derf- 
flinger.  Von  der  Tann,  Hindenburg,  Moltke — as  if 
in  review.  The  low  sun  glances  from  their  shabby 
sides.  Their  huge  guns,  motionless,  are  trained 
fore  and  aft.  It  is  the  sight  of  our  dreams — a 
sight  for  kings!  Those  long,  low,  sleek-looking 
monsters  which  we  had  pictured  ablaze  with 
spouting  flame  and  fury — steaming  like  peaceful 
merchantmen  on  a  calm  sea.     Then  the  long  line 


176  BEATTY.  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

of  battleships,  led  by  Friedrich  der  Grosse,  flying  the 
flag  of  Admiral  von  Renter  who  is  in  command  of 
the  whole  force.  Koenig  Albert,  Kaiser,  Kron- 
prinz  Wilhelm,  Kaiserin,  Bayern,  Markgraf,  Prinz 
Regent  Luitpold,  and  Grosser  Kurfurst  followed  in 
foitoatdon — powerful  to  look  at,  dangerous  in 
battle,  pitiful  in  surrender.  We  gaze  with  wonder 
on  this  spectacle — the  end  of  four  years'  vigil; 
the  banishment  of  Germany's  sinister  dream  of 
sea  power.  This,  then,  is  the  end  for  which  the 
Kaiser  has  lavished  his  millions  on  his  "incompar- 
able" navy!  A  navy  powerful  enough  to  conquer 
all  the  navies  of  the  world  combined — ^bar  the 
British.  But  when  the  British  combined  with 
all  the  others  against  him,  that  tolled  his  doom. 
For  sea  power,  slow  in  its  working,  must  ultimately 
prevail. 

Strangely  enough  the  German  surrender  lacked 
the  thrill  of  victory.  There  was  the  gaping  won- 
der of  it,  the  inconceivable  that  was  happening 
before  our  very  eyes — the  great  German  fleet 
steaming  helplessly  there  at  our  side — conquered. 
Conquered,  but  not  in  the  spectacular  way  that 
we  would  so  gladly  have  given  our  lives  to  see. 
The  one  prevalent  emotion,  so  far  as  I  could  as- 
certain, was  pity.  It  carried  even  to  our  great 
Commander-in-Chief,  who  I  believe  was  the  least 
thrilled  and  most  disappointed  person  present. 
In  speaking  to  us  after  the  surrender  he  remarked : 
"It  was  a  most  disappointing  day.     It  was  a  piti- 


'<  I 


:^f~~~ 

-===:s::^ mmmmmmmm 

""""^^^^^^SZ^^i^^H 

u         ^ 

X 

4 

SURRENDER  OF  THE  GERMAN  FLEET     177 

fill  day,  to  see  those  great  ships  coming  in  like 
sheep  being  herded  by  dogs  to  their  fold,  without 
an  effort  on  anybody's  part."  And  no  one  of  his 
audience  dissented.  They  were  as  helpless  as 
sheep.  About  two  hours'  vigil  satisfied  our  com- 
manders that  such  was  the  case,  and  we  secured 
battle  stations.  Later  investigation  showed  that 
all  our  precautions  were  quite  unnecessary.  Not 
only  had  the  powder  and  ammunition  been  re- 
moved from  the  German  ships,  but  their  range 
finders,  gun  sights,  fire  control,  and  very  breech 
blocks  as  well.  They  came  mere  skeletons  of  their 
former  fighting  selves  in  a  miserable  state  of  equip- 
ment, upkeep,  and  repair.  For  example,  in  passing 
May  Island,  at  the  entrance  of  the  Firth  of  Forth, 
Admiral  Beatty  signalled  one  of  the  German  squad- 
rons to  put  on  17  knots  and  close  up  in  formation. 
The  reply  came  to  him,  "We  cannot  do  better  than 
12  knots.  Lack  lubricating  oil."  What  chance, 
then  of  a  modern  engagement  where  a  speed  of  at 
least  18  knots  is  sustained.?  Apparently  they  were 
no  better  off  for  food.  Hardly  had  they  anchored 
when  the  crews  turned-to  with  hook  and  line  to 
catch  what  they  might  for  dinner! 

Guarded  on  every  side,  the  German  ships  entered 
the  firth  at  about  three  o'clock  quietly  to  drop 
anchor  outside  the  nets.  We  stood  in  past  them, 
as  they  rode  peacefully  to  the  tide,  and  on  to  our 
berths,  squadron  after  squadron,  type  after  type 
until  their  German  eyes  must  have  bulged  In  awe 


178  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

at  such  a  vast  array  of  power.  Last  of  all  came 
the  Queen  Elizabeth,  flagship  of  the  Grand  Fleet, 
with  Admiral  Beatty.  Passing  the  German  flag- 
ship he  made  that  now-famous  signal:  "The  Ger- 
man flag  will  be  hauled  down  at  sunset  to-day, 
Thursday,  and  will  not  be  hoisted  again  without 
permission."  The  message  was  accepted  and 
obeyed  by  seventy  warships  of  the  German  navy. 
It  was  over.  In  the  sunset  the  Queen  Elizabeth 
with  the  victorious  Beatty  passed  between  our 
lines  to  her  mooring.  Three  lusty  cheers  went  up 
from  each  ship  as  he  passed,  our  colours  dipped, 
our  guards  presenting  arms,  and  our  bands  strik- 
ing up  the  national  airs.  That  was  the  real  ex- 
pression of  victory.  Tears  filled  the  eyes  of  some. 
Smiles  on  the  faces  of  others.  Victory  in  the 
hearts  of  all.  For  we  knew,  and  the  British  navy 
knew,  and  all  the  world  knew,  the  truth  which  our 
great  Commander-in-Chief  so  aptly  expressed  a 
few  days  later  in  reply  to  a  message  of  sympathy: 

We  do  not  want  sympathy — we  want  recognition !  Recog- 
nition of  the  fact  that  the  prestige  of  the  Grand  Fleet  stood 
so  high  that  it  was  sufficient  to  cause  the  enemy  to  surrender 
without  striking  a  blow. 


CHAPTER  XII 

HOMEWARD  BOUND 

FAREWELL  TO   THE   GRAND   FLEET. 
ADDRESS.      ESCORTING  THE  PRESIDENT  TO  FRANCE.      RE- 
TURN OF  THE  AMERICAN  OVERSEAS  FLEET  TO  NEW  YORK 

Yankee  thoughts  now  homeward  fly. 

Far  across  the  sea; 
Christmas  in  our  native  land ' 

Beckons  you  and  me. 
Yet  our  hearts  must  long  retain 
Memories  of  the  message  plain: 
*^  Britain  wants  you  back  again. 
Good  luck  and  '  Good-Bye-e-e-e*  /" 

— E.  E.  Wilson 


TH] 
on 
th. 


'*  r  I  "^E  Ninth  Division  Atlantic  Fleet  will  take 
on  stores  and  proceed  soon  as  possible  to 
the  United  States."  From  the  Chief  of 
Naval  Operations  came  this  order,  via  Force 
Commander,  on  the  twenty-second  of  November, 
1918,  the  day  following  the  surrender  of  the  Ger- 
man fleet.  It  came  exactly  on  the  date  on  which 
the  New  York  one  year  before  had  sailed  from  the 
Brooklyn  Navy  Yard,  for  war.  That  message  was 
the  consummation  of  a  thousand  dreams  and  hopes 
and  fears.  It  spread  through  the  ship  like  wild- 
fire, sending  brains  awhirl;  but  it  came  as  the  cli- 
max of  a  week  so  dizzily  confusing  that  it  scarcely 

179 


180  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

moved  a  countenance.  The  men  had  become  set 
for  anything  and  took  their  good  news  calmly. 
One  month  before,  that  message  would  have  made 
a  veritable  madhouse  of  Rodman's  flagship. 

A  week  of  preparation  was  considered  necessary, 
for  three  months'  provisions  and  all  spare  parts 
must  be  aboard  each  ship.  The  rush  continued 
for  two  days,  then  the  bright  vision  of  "  New  York 
for  Christmas"  faded,  faded.  Our  orders  home 
were  modified.  The  war  at  sea  had  ended,  but 
we  had  one  further  duty  to  perform.  Our  Com- 
mander-in-Chief, the  President,  was  about  to  sail 
for  France,  and  we  must  form  his  escort  into 
Brest.  With  the  relief  squadron  of  American 
battleships  which  had  recently  arrived  and  based 
at  Queenstown,  Ireland,  we  were  ordered  to  pro- 
ceed to  Portland,  England,  there  to  await  the  Pres- 
ident's arrival  and  escort  his  ship  to  Brest.  Our 
date  of  leaving  the  Grand  Fleet  remained  the  same, 
but  the  date  of  our  arrival  home  came  perilously 
near  Christmas. 

Our  last  week  with  the  Grand  Fleet  at  Rosyth 
may  easily  be  called  the  most  impressive.  Not 
even  the  joy  at  prospect  of  our  homegoing  could 
wipe  away  the  touch  of  sadness  that  hung  over 
every  gathering  that  week.  There  were  dinners  and 
dances  and  teas  and  games  ashore  and  afloat,  each 
bearing  the  aspect  of  farewell.  We  realized  more 
deeply,  day  by  day,  how  fully  the  bond  of  com- 
radeship between  our  forces  had  been  developed. 


HOMEWARD  BOUND  181 

I  shall  long  remember  Thanksgiving  Day  which 
happened  to  fall  just  at  that  time.  Admiral 
Leveson  gave  a  luncheon  at  noon  in  his  flagship, 
Barham  of  the  Fifth  Battle  Squadron.  He  used  the 
largest  round  table  I  have  ever  seen,  at  which  were 
seated  some  thirty  officers  and  ladies.  I  had  many 
qualms  at  being  the  only  "two-striper"  in  the 
cabin,  but  perhaps  enjoyed  the  situation  all  the 
more  because  of  it.  Admiral  Rodman  had  just 
returned  from  London  in  fine  spirits,  while  Admiral 
Leveson  vindicated  his  own  jolly  reputation.  Im- 
mediately after  luncheon  the  party  embarked  en 
masse  to  the  King  George  F,  on  whose  canopied 
quarterdeck  a  dance  given  for  the  New  York  was  in 
progress.  It  was  a  delightful  aflFair,  elaborate  yet 
not  too  formal.  After  dancing  until  nine,  some  of 
us  stayed  for  dinner  with  Admiral  De  Robeck  who 
flies  his  flag  of  the  Fourth  Division  from  the  King 
George  V,  Nor  was  that  all;  for  we  gathered  again 
to  a  special  orchestra  and  danced  into  the  morning 
hours.  On  the  following  day,  Friday,  the  decks 
of  the  New  York  were  the  scene  of  the  farewell  party 
of  the  Sixth  Battle  Squadron  to  the  Grand  Fleet. 
It  took  the  form  of  a  huge  reception  and  dance, 
employing  the  entire  main  deck.  Awnings  stretched 
from  stem  to  stern,  covering  a  bower  of  lanterns, 
flags  and  greens.  Literally  in  thousands  came  the 
guests,  who  marvelled  at  the  "air  fountains," 
made  with  streamers  in  the  blowers,  the  electri- 
cal display,  the  four  orchestras,    and   lastly    but 


182  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN  , 

very  emphatically,  the  American  punch  and  ices. 
Never  had  the  New  York  shown  to  better  advan- 
tage, for  knowing  this  to  be  our  final  impression 
upon  the  Grand  Fleet,  nothing  had  been  spared 
for  its  success.  The  day  was  planned  and  exe- 
cuted Rodman  fashion.  Many  of  the  guests  de- 
clared the  party  was  a  revelation,  and  I  believe  it 
will  remain  in  the  memory  of  the  Grand  Fleet  for 
years.  To  conclude  the  day,  a  party  of  us  dined 
with  the  Hon.  Captain  and  Mrs.  Plunkett-Drax  at 
Pitraevie  Castle,  their  home  in  Dumfermline. 
Late  we  visited  the  Queen  Elizabeth  to  say  farewell, 
thence  to  the  ship.  Saturday  evening,  in  the 
junior  officers'  mess,  we  did  some  farewell  entertain- 
ing of  our  own.  It  was  our  last  night.  We  con- 
verted the  messroom  into  a  bower  of  bunting  and 
greens,  which,  with  coloured  lighting  effects,  be- 
wildered even  those  who  were  familiar  with  the 
place.  Admiral  Leveson,  Admiral  Rodman  and 
three  captains  were  among  our  guests,  with  Grand 
Fleet  ladies  making  fifteen  couples.  The  jazz 
band,  playing  its  very  jazziest,  kept  up  the  life  and 
dancing  till  the  hour  when  the  last  farewells  per- 
force were  said.  The  strength  of  the  ties  of  our 
friendships  were  never  fully  realized  until  the  time 
of  parting  came. 

I  was  wakened  in  the  morning  by  the  rumbling 
anchor  cables.  We  were  heaving  short,  on  this 
forenoon  of  December  first,  being  under  orders 
to  weigh  anchor  at  eleven  forty-five  and  proceed  to 


HOMEWARD  BOUND  183 

Portland,  England.  Admiral  Rodman  left  the 
ship,  paid  his  respects  to  the  Commander-in-Chief 
in  the  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  returned  to  his  flagship. 
A  signal  brought  the  captains  of  our  squadron's 
ships  to  the  New  York's  quarterdeck,  while  at  the 
same  time  a  number  of  the  flag  officers  and  com- 
manding officers  of  the  Grand  Fleet  arrived  in- 
formally to  pay  their  respects.  A  great  fleet  of 
little  steamers  and  launches  had  gathered  at  our 
side,  having  left  aboard  our  best  friends  from  the 
fleet.  At  exactly  eleven  o'clock,  in  the  midst  of 
these  mutual  expressions  of  comradeship,  the 
shining  black  barge  of  the  Commander-in-Chief 
was  hailed  approaching.  Admiral  Sir  David 
Beatty  was  piped  over  the  side  and  received  by 
eight  officer  side  boys.  Admiral  Rodman  and  his 
staff,  the  captains  of  the  ships  of  the  Sixth  Battle 
Squadron  and  the  officers  of  the  New  York.  At 
his  request  all  hands  were  called  to  muster  on  the 
forecastle,  where,  raised  in  their  midst,  the  lead- 
er of  the  Grand  Fleet  made  his  now  famous  fare- 
well remarks: 

I  could  not  let  the  Sixth  Battle  Squadron  go  without 
coming  on  board  the  New  York  and  saying  something  of 
what  I  feel  at  this  moment  of  your  departure.  I  had  in- 
tended to  ask  Admiral  Rodman  to  permit  me  to  say  some- 
thing to  representatives  of  all  the  ships  of  the  Sixth  Battle 
Squadron  on  board  his  flagship,  but  exigencies  of  service 
have  not  permitted  me  to  do  that;  and,  therefore,  as  Admiral 
Rodman  has  said,  what  I  say  to  you  I  hope  you  will  pro- 


184   BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

mulgate  to  your  comrades  in  the  other  ships,  and  not  only 
to  them,  but  also  to  your  comrades  of  the  Atlantic  Fleet. 

There  is  not  much  that  I  have  to  say,  but  what  I  do  say  I 
hope  you  will  understand  comes  from  the  heart — not  only 
my  heart,  but  the  hearts  of  your  comrades  of  the  Grand 
Fleet. 

I  want  first  of  all,  to  thank  you.  Admiral  Rodman,  the 
captains,  oflScers,  and  ships'  companies  of  this  magnificent 
squadron  for  the  wonderful  cooperation  and  loyalty  you  have 
given  to  me  and  to  my  admirals;  and  the  assistance  that  you 
have  given  us  in  every  duty  you  had  to  undertake.  The 
support  which  you  have  shown  is  that  of  true  comradeship; 
and,  in  time  of  stress,  that  is  worth  a  very  great  deal.  As 
somebody  said  the  other  day,  "The  fighting  is  now  over,  the 
talking  is  now  going  to  begin";  therefore,  I  do  not  want  to 
keep  you  here  any  longer,  but  I  want  to  congratulate  you 
for  having  been  present  upon  a  day  which  is  unsurpassed 
in  the  naval  annals  of  the  world.  I  know  quite  well  that  you, 
as  well  as  all  of  your  British  comrades,  were  bitterly  disap- 
pointed at  not  being  able  to  give  effect  to  that  efficiency  that 
you  have  so  well  maintained.  It  was  a  most  disappointing 
day.  It  was  a  pitiful  day,  to  see  those  great  ships  coming  in 
like  sheep  being  herded  by  dogs  to  their  fold,  without  an 
effort  on  anybody's  part;  but  it  was  a  day  that  everybody 
could  be  proud  of.  I  have  received  messages  from  several 
people,  offering  sympathy  to  the  Grand  Fleet,  and  my  an- 
swer was  that  we  do  not  want  sympathy — we  want  recog- 
nition of  the  fact  that  the  prestige  of  the  Grand  Fleet  stood 
so  high  that  it  was  sufficient  to  cause  the  enemy  to  surrender 
without  striking  a  blow.  I  had  always  certain  misgivings, 
and  when  the  Sixth  Battle  Squadron  became  a  part  of  the 
Grand  Fleet  those  misgivings  were  doubly  strengthened, 
and  I  knew  then  they  would  throw  up  their  hands.  Appar- 
ently, the  Sixth  Battle  Squadron  was  the  straw  that  broke 
the  camel's  back.    However,  the  disappointment  that  the 


HOMEWARD  BOUND  185 

Grand  Fleet  was  not  able  to  strike  its  blow  for  the  freedom 
of  the  world  is  counteracted  by  the  fact  that  it  was  their 
prestige  alone  that  brought  about  this  achievement. 

During  the  last  twelve  months  that  you  have  been  with 
us  we  have  learned  to  know  each  other  very  well;  we  have 
learned  to  respect  each  other;  we  know  each  other's  faults. — 
Are  there  any  in  the  Sixth  Battle  Squadron,  Admiral!' — 
We  know  each  other's  good  qualities,  and  I  want  you  to  take 
back  a  message  to  the  Atlantic  Fleet  that  you  have  left  a 
place,  a  very  warm  place,  in  the  hearts  of  the  Grand  Fleet 
which  cannot  be  filled  until  you  come  back  or  send  another 
squadron  to  represent  you.  You  have  given  us  a  sample 
of  the  Atlantic  Fleet  which  I  think  will  try  the  Atlantic 
Fleet,  efficient  as  it  is,  very  hard  to  reproduce. — I  do  not 
know  what  Admiral  Mayo  will  say  to  that,  but  Admiral 
Rodman  will  put  it  up  to  him  in  that  way. 

I  understand  that  you  are  now  going  down  to  Portland, 
where  you  are  going  to  get  leave — that  is  so.  Admiral,  is  it 
not.f^  After  that,  you  have  a  duty  to  perform,  of  bringing 
your  president  to  these  waters;  and  then  you  will  return  to 
your  own  shores;  and  I  hope  in  the  sunshine,  which  Admiral 
Rodmen  tells  me  always  shines  there,  you  won't  forget  your 
"comrades  of  the  mist"  and  your  pleasant  associations  of  the 
North  Sea.  This  is  a  queer  place,  as  you  have  found  out; 
but  you  are  not  the  first  to  find  it  out.  There  was  a  great 
explorer,  Marco  Polo,  who,  after  travelling  over  the  world 
for  thirty  years,  one  day  found  himself  in  the  North  Sea,  and 
then  went  home,  went  to  bed,  and  did  not  travel  any  more. 
I  trust  it  will  not  have  the  same  effect  on  any  of  you.  But 
I  can  say  this  for  you  that  those  of  you  that  I  have  seen  dur- 
ing the  last  twelve  months  seem  to  have  improved  in  many 
ways,  if  it  was  possible;  and  I  think  that  the  North  Sea  has  a 
health-giving  quality  which  must  be  put  against  all  the  bad 
points,  of  which  there  are  so  many. 

I  thank  you  again,  again  and  again,  for  the  great  part  the 


186  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

Sixth  Battle  Squadron  has  played  in  bringing  about  the 
greatest  naval  victory  in  history.  I  hope  you  will  give  this 
message  to  your  comrades.  Come  back  soon.  Good-bye 
and  good  luck! 

A  great  shout  broke  from  the  men  who  were 
packed  below  him,  as  the  solid  ranks  of  blue  which 
had  stood  immobile  to  catch  each  word  from  his 
clear  ringing  voice,  became  a  surging,  cheering 
mass.  Their  love  for  the  great  Sir  David  Beatty 
needed  no  further  demonstration.  Admiral  Rod- 
man, in  a  few  well-chosen  words,  replied  to  Admiral 
Beatty's  speech,  reciprocating  heartily  his  senti- 
ments. He  closed  by  leading  three  more  rousing 
cheers  for  Admiral  Beatty. 

The  decks  of  the  Grand  Fleet's  ships  were  packed 
with  humanity.  Not  alone  were  there  the  sailors 
of  the  ships'  companies,  but  boatload  after  boat- 
load of  people  from  the  shore  had  come  aboard  the 
ships  which  lined  our  channel  to  the  sea.  The 
Sixth  Battle  Squadron  weighed  anchor,  broke  from 
its  maintops  long  streaming  "homeward-bound" 
pennants  and  proceeded  out  of  harbour.  Our 
band  burst  forth  with  "Homeward  Bound"  and 
followed  it  with  "Good  Bye-e-e."  Cheers  were 
exchanged  with  every  vessel  as  we  passed  between 
the  columns,  while  their  bands  played  our  airs  and 
messages  of  comradeship  and  good  luck  floated  in 
a  score  of  different  versions  from  as  many  yard- 
arms.  Nor  was  that  the  end.  The  New  York^ 
followed  by  the  Texas,  Nevada,  Arkansas,  Wyom- 


HOMEWARD  BOUND  1B7 

ing  and  Florida  in  column,  was  escorted  to  May 
Island,  twenty  miles  outside,  by  the  ships  of  the 
Fifth  Battle  Squadron,  our  sister  division,  and  the 
Eleventh  Destroyer  Flotilla.  The  Barham,  Admiral 
Leveson's  flagship,  and  the  Malaya  steamed  to 
starboard,  with  the  Valiant  and  Warspite  to  port. 
The  destroyers  took  up  a  screening  formation 
ahead  and  astern.  There  was  music  and  cheering 
nearly  all  the  way,  culminating  as  we  approached 
May  Island.  The  British  units  turned  gracefully 
outward,  swinging  through  180  degrees.  There 
was  a  sustained  roar  of  cheers  as  the  great  ships 
parted  from  us,  and  the  signal  force  was  put  to  it 
in  the  rapid  exchange  of  felicitous  messages.  From 
the  masthead  of  Admiral  Leveson's  Barham  was 
displayed  at  the  last  the  plain  English  hoist 
"G-O-O-D  B-Y-E-E-E-E."  Simultaneously  a 
message  was  received  by  radio  from  the  Comman- 
der-in-Chief, Grand  Fleet: 


Your  comrades  in  the  Grand  Fleet  regret  your  departure. 
We  trust  it  is  only  temporary  and  that  the  interchange  of 
squadrons  from  the  two  great  fleets  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race 
may  be  repeated.  We  wish  you  good-bye,  good  luck,  a  good 
time;  and  come  back  soon. 

Thus  impressively  were  the  wartime  relations  of 
the  Allied  navies  terminated.  Fondly  we  looked 
at  the  last  of  our  Grand  Fleet  days,  but  the  tinge 
of  parting  regret  was  soon  forgotten  as  we  turned 


188  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

our  faces  north  and  eastward — faces  which  plainly 
bore  the  lines, 

Yankee  thoughts  now  homeward  fly 

Far  across  the  sea; 
Christmas  in  our  native  land 

Beckons  you  and  me. 
Yet  our  hearts  must  long  retain 
Memories  of  the  message  plain: 
"Britain  wants  you  back  again. 
Good  luck  and  *Good-Bye-e-e-e'!'* 

The  mine  fields  in  the  channels  made  the  south- 
ern route  unsafe  to  Portland.  We  were  obliged  to 
cruise  around  the  northern  end  of  Scotland 
through  the  Pentland  Firth,  between  the  mainland 
and  the  Hebrides,  thence  through  the  Irish  Sea  to 
Land's  end.  The  squadron  ran  through  heavy 
weather  off  the  northwest  coast,  but  otherwise  the 
trip  seemed  child's  play.  All  navigational  guides 
had  been  relighted,  vessels  carried  running  lights 
and  we  could  use  searchlights  and  radio.  Our 
course  lay  over  the  watery  graves  of  the  Justicia 
and  Lancaster  Castle,  the  horrors  of  which  stood 
sharply  in  contrast  with  the  now  plentiful  mer- 
chantmen which  peacefully  plied  above  them. 
Rounding  Land's  End  on  a  clear  crisp  morning, 
we  were  soon  guided  into  the  crowded  harbour  of 
Portland  by  a  pilot  tug  sent  out  to  meet  us.  There 
we  joined  the  Arizona,  Oklahoma  and  Utah,  the 
remainder  of  the  escort  for  the  President.  The 
Drifter  Patrol  Fleet  of  the  Western  Channel,  hun- 


HOMEWARD  BOUND  189 

dreds  strong,  lay  behind  the  strong  defenses,  as 
yet  undispersed.  In  the  harbour  there  was  scarcely 
clearance  space  to  swing,  which  kept  a  lively  watch 
for  oflScers  of  the  deck.  Several  of  the  officers 
left  at  once  for  London,  and  the  men  were  given 
general  leave.  Most  of  us  preferred  to  save  our 
time  for  future  use,  however,  pending  our  return. 
We  used  the  week  for  coaling,  cleaning,  preparing. 
With  a  party  of  four  I  spent  two  days  at  Charbor- 
ough  Park,  in  Dorset,  the  seventeen-thousand  acre 
estate  of  Captain  Drax,  at  pheasant  shooting.  The 
captain  had  arranged  for  this  while  we  were  in  the 
north,  and  made  conditions  quite  ideal.  We  were 
furnished  with  a  guide,  six  "beaters,"  dogs  and 
food,  and  permitted  to  beat  the  best  covers.  An 
idea  of  the  plenty  of  the  game  may  be  formed  by 
realizing  that  this  was  the  first  shoot  since  the  out- 
break of  the  war.  In  all  we  took  forty-nine  phea- 
sants, fifteen  hares,  nineteen  rabbits,  and  four 
ducks,  no  mean  bag  considering  the  grade  of  our 
shooting.  English  shooting  is  so  diflferent  from 
our  hunting,  that  an  experience  with  their  game  is 
well  worth  while. 

All  leave  and  liberty  parties  returned  on  Decem- 
ber 12th  and  busied  themselves  securing  for  sea. 
Admiral  Sims  had  come  from  London,  taking  the 
Wyoming  for  his  flagship,  and  assumed  the  lead 
of  both  divisions  as  formation  guide.  Rain  and 
mist  enshrouded  our  departure  but  did  not  detract 
from  the  full  salute  of  a  regiment  of  Australian 


190  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

troops  drawn  up  on  the  mole.  Each  ship  re- 
sponded, accompanied  by  the  British  anthem.  We 
caught  our  last  glimpse  of  England  as  the  granite 
cliffs  of  Portland  faded  in  the  mist  astern.  At  dawn 
we  rounded  Ushant,  the  northwest  point  of  France 
and  slowed  to  ten  knots.  In  spite  of  being ''  Friday 
the  Thirteenth"  we  looked  forward  to  a  great  day. 
Just  at  eight  bells  our  hopes  were  realized  when  we 
caught  sight  of  the  flagship  Pennsylvania  leading 
the  President's  George  Washington;  and  at  once  we 
proceeded  to  create  a  new  formation. 

Such  a  tribute  no  American  leader  has  ever  been 
paid.  Think  of  the  weight  of  circumstances,  the 
power  of  the  individual,  whose  coming  to  a  foreign 
land  should  warrant  as  his  escort  the  cream  of  the 
American  navy !  It  was  inspiring  to  look  upon  the 
massive  freeboard  of  the  George  Washington  loom- 
ing against  the  low  sleek  sides  of  five  great  seafight- 
ers  on  either  side,  cruising  at  perfect  interval  and 
shielded  by  a  full  screen  of  destroyers.  Each  ship 
fired  the  twenty-one  gun  presidential  salute  as  she 
took  her  place  in  line  and  settled  on  her  course  to 
Brest.  The  clear  and  moderate  morning  pictur- 
esquely set  off  this  historic  incident.  The  President's 
ship  followed  the  squadron  into  Brest,  and  passing 
down  between  our  columns,  anchored  amid  salutes 
and  cheers  from  the  thousands  who  lined  the 
shores.  Detailed  ashore  to  arrange  for  the  land- 
ing of  boats,  etc.,  I  found  the  city  of  Brest  an  ex- 
cited pageant,  waiting  to  greet  the  man  whom  the 


HOMEWARD  BOUND  191 

French  held  almost  as  a  saviour,  President  Wilson 
of  the  United  States.  They  had  seen  his  country 
honour  him  with  her  armada  for  an  escort;  and 
now  impatiently  awaited  that  historic,  precedent- 
breaking  moment  when  our  President  should  set 
his  foot  on  the  soil  of  France,  that  they  might  do 
their  share.  Bands,  flags,  troops,  guards,  confetti 
and  a  riotous  mob  were  the  features  of  the  town 
that  afternoon,  and  when  at  four  o'clock  the  Presi- 
dent shoved  oflf  for  shore  the  carnival  broke  loose. 
In  a  riot  of  cheers  and  roar  of  guns  and  whistles  he 
landed,  met  by  General  Pershing  and  ten  thousand 
eager  citizens.  To  these  the  President  delivered 
a  brief  address  before  he  hurriedly  left  for  Paris; 
but  the  spirit  of  the  day  was  carried  far  into  the 
night  long  after  his  departure.  The  bonds  of  com- 
radeship created  by  the  heartfelt  gratitude  of 
France  to  the  United  States,  expressed  thus  to  its 
leader,  seemed  enough,  to  those  who  saw  and  felt 
them,  to  justify  the  visit  of  our  President  abroad. 

Next  morning  found  the  gobs  aboard  ship  surg- 
ing and  shouting  in  their  joy.  We  were  to  leave 
for  home.  Original  orders  had  been  changed 
again  by  the  wisdom  of  Admiral  Rodman  who  had 
radioed: 

At  the  request  of  the  crews  who  have  served  in  the  North 
Sea  for  the  past  year  without  leave  or  recreation,  it  is  earn- 
estly recommended  that  the  battleships  under  my  command 
proceed  directly  to  New  York  for  leave  before  assignment  to 
home  yards. 


192    BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

So  we  were  oS,  this  time,  not  to  drop  anchor 
until  we  reached  New  York.  Aboard  each  ship 
was  a  detachment  of  about  five  hundred  troops 
which  we  were  transporting  back  with  their  offi- 
cers. They  crowded  the  crew  considerably,  but 
no  complaints  were  heard.  At  two  o'clock  that 
afternoon  I  stood  far  up  in  the  bow.  Four  flags 
ran  up  the  Pennsylvania's  halyards  which,  trans- 
lated, read  *'Get  under  way."  Word  came  from 
the  bridge,  and  the  thrill  was  mine  to  press  the  but- 
ton that  started  the  anchor  engine  hauling  in!  A 
cheer  went  up  as  the  homeward-bound  pennant 
again  broke  loose  and  floated  out  six  hundred  feet 
astern.  At  the  head  of  the  Sixth  Battle  Squadron 
we  took  our  place,  turned  toward  the  setting  sun 
and  passed  by  Ushant  Head  before  the  glow  had 
left  the  west.  Our  course  home  lay  by  the  south- 
ern route,  making  the  Azores  our  next  landfall. 
On  the  first  day  out  we  encountered  the  only  heavy 
weather  of  the  voyage.  It  was  enough  to  wet 
us  down  thoroughly  and  give  the  gobs  the  sport  of 
laughing  at  the  seasick  soldiers.  A  week  so  per- 
fect followed,  in  the  balmy  southern  air,  that  we 
could  scarcely  believe  it  possible  after  living  in  the 
North  Sea.  The  deep  blue  of  the  cloudless  sky 
and  crystal  water  seemed  to  throw  a  soft  light 
everywhere.  We  sighted  San  Miguel,  the  north- 
east island  of  the  Azores,  forty  miles  away;  and 
two  days  later  picked  up  Pico,  that  great  volcanic 
peak  which  rises  seven  thousand  feet  sheer  from 


HOMEWARD  BOUND  193 

tlie  fathomless  sea  to  form  the  westerly  extreme. 
Pico  when  first  reported  visible  was  sixty  miles 
away!  Each  evening  we  were  able  to  have  "mov- 
ies" in  the  open  air  on  deck,  much  to  the  delight 
of  the  crew.  The  squadron,  following  us  with  all 
lights  burning  seemed  to  shine  like  a  Christmas 
tree  to  us  who  had  strained  for  a  year  to  catch  even 
a  glimpse  of  its  war-time  blackness.  Drills  of  all 
sorts  were  conducted  daily  and  the  ship  made 
scrupulously  clean.  We  reached  the  Gulf  Stream 
on  the  twentieth  and  in  its  warm  and  sticky  air 
had  word  that  all  New  York  awaited  our  arrival  on 
the  twenty-fourth,  when  we  would  be  reviewed 
afloat  and  on  parade,  and  then  sent  home  for 
Christmas  day.  It  seemed  as  though  our  fearful 
hopes  would  after  all  be  realized. 

Next  day  came  a  staggering  blow  to  the  entire 
squadron.  For  some  reason  which  has  never  been 
explained,  a  radio  from  Secretary  Daniels  ordered 
that  we  should  not  arrive  on  schedule,  but  on  the 
twenty-sixth  instead.  So  we  slowed  to  twelve 
knots'  speed.  Picture  the  anguish  of  those  hun- 
dreds of  lads  who  had  been  counting  above  all  else 
on  a  home  Christnjas!  At  one  time  they  arose  in 
a  serious  threat  of  laying  down  their  jobs,  and  only 
perfect  unity  avoided  such  catastrophe.  The  New 
York  papers  flashed  the  headlines  of  the  fleet  held 
up  by  winter  gales,  while  we  were  out  there  poking 
along  in  a.  dead  calm.  This  blunder  happened  at 
the  very  time  when  the  navy  was  trying  to  induce 


194  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

the  reserves  to  remain  within  its  ranks,  and  to  en- 
courage reenUstment  of  the  regulars;  and  in  one 
night  every  sailor  on  the  New  York  vowed  himself 
through  at  the  first  opportunity.  Nor  could  a 
single  officer  be  found  who  would  not  agree  with 
the  men  that  they  had  had  a  raw  deal.  It  was  a 
different  cruise  from  that  day  on,  the  spirit  gone 
from  drills  and  work,  with  grumbling  from  every 
corner  on  ships  which  were  marking  time  until 
arrival.  To  cap  the  climax  we  sighted  the  Jersey 
coast  on  Christmas  morning,  caught  a  tempting 
glimpse  of  that  glorious  land  we  had  seen  in  our 
dreams  for  months,  longed  to  set  foot  ashore  that 
day,  but  instead  proceeded  to  Ambrose  Channel 
lightship  and  dropped  anchor  thirty  miles  from 
Broadway!  Christmas  dinner  and  a  wild  demon- 
stration by  all  hands  gave  little  consolation,  and 
the  ship  slept  early,  brooding  on  the  morrow. 

Sullen  skies  and  a  high-hanging  mist  marked  the 
early  hours  of  the  day.  The  squadron  anchored 
off  the  Ambrose  lightship  got  but  a  chill  welcome 
from  the  weather.  Snow  and  a  nipping  wind  ob- 
scured from  the  thousands  of  eager  persons  who 
lined  the  lower  bay  the  fact  that  their  fleet  was 
standing  in.  The  sky  was  gray  and  the  ships 
were  gray  and  there  was  enough  of  fog  between  the 
snow  squalls  to  hide  everything  more  than  slightly 
distant.  But  those  who  knew  the  navy  knew  that 
out  there  in  the  bay  the  great  fleet  must  be  moving, 
for  their  review  was  scheduled  at  ten  a.  m.     Five 


HOMEWARD  BOUND  195 

minutes  before  that  time  the  guiding  Gloucester's 
kite  balloon  was  sighted  from  the  Mayflower^ 
which  lay  below  the  Statue  of  Liberty.  At  ten 
o'clock,  the  Arizona,  leading  the  homecoming 
line,  passed  in  review.  Slowly  the  Sixth  Battle 
Squadron  steamed  northward  with  its  escort  of 
great  oil  burners,  and  passed  before  the  Secretary 
of  the  Navy  on  the  Mayflower,  As  each  ship  drew 
abreast  his  vessel  the  Secretarial  salute  of  nine- 
teen guns  roared  from  its  battery,  and  from  the 
main  topmast  of  each  Sixth  Squadron  ship  the 
homeward-bound  pennant  was  broken  anew  to 
stream  astern.  Rows  of  black  figures  lined  the 
ships,  rigid  at  attention.  They  filled  each  port 
and  every  platform,  for  who  would  miss  the  sight 
of  New  York  Harbour .^^  These  were  the  gobs  who, 
despite  their  ships  were  scarless.  Secretary  Daniels 
rightly  hailed  as  "valiant  victors."  It  was  the 
greatest  naval  review  in  American  history,  for  it 
marked  the  day  of  the  formal  assumption  by  the 
United  States  of  its  place  as  the  second  naval  power 
of  the  world.  The  entire  Atlantic  Fleet  had  joined 
the  Sixth  Battle  Squadron  for  its  return,  exhibiting 
the  greatest  fighting  force  of  which  the  United 
States  had  ever  boasted,  assembled  for  the  first 
time  as  a  single  unit. 

The  swirling  snowstorm  which  had  enveloped 
us  in  the  lower  bay  lifted  suddenly  as  the  dread- 
naughts  slowly  passed  the  thousands  of  specta- 
tors on  Riverside  Drive,  and  a  great  triumphant 


196  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

roar  of  welcome  arose  as  the  huge  anchors  plunged 
to  the  river  depths.  For  the  first  time  in  thirteen 
months  those  anchors  found  a  home  port,  and  the 
cheers  that  went  up  from  our  own  decks  were  heart- 
felt. Within  two  hours  the  complement  of  every 
ship  was  lined  in  dress  blues  on  the  New  York 
streets  for  the  great  parade  of  welcome.  Ten 
thousand  strong  they  swung  down  Fifth  Avenue, 
in  a  din  of  cheers  beneath  a  canopy  of  bunting, 
headed  by  Admirals  Mayo  and  Rodman  with  their 
staffs.  Then  the  majority  were  free  men  for  the 
night.  Broadway  welcomed  the  bluejackets  with 
open  arms.  They  were  dined  in  the  restaurants 
and  entertained  at  the  theatres.  Some  just 
marched  the  streets.  Wherever  they  went  they 
were  heartily  cheered  and  wherever  an  officer 
went  he  was  openly  congratulated.  A  carnival 
prevailed  throughout  New  York,  for  the  people 
felt  the  spirit  which  Admiral  Rodman  expressed 
that  night,  saying: 

After  a  year  of  strenuous  and  arduous  duty,  but  duty  which 
was  most  eagerly  and  gladly  performed,  our  ships  have 
reached  home  across  the  ocean,  not  darkened  and  zig-zagging 
to  avoid  danger  from  hostile  forces,  but  with  a  blaze  of  lights 
turned  on  and  a  feeling  of  perfect  security  and  confidence; 
and,  needless  to  add,  with  hearts  full  of  happiness  and  con- 
tentment that  we  are  once  more  at  home  in  God's  country, 
having  contributed  our  mite  to  the  winning  of  the  war. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE  SINKING  OF  THE  GERMAN  FLEET 

The  moving  finger  writes^  and  having  writ 

Moves  on,  nor  all  your  piety  nor  wit 
Can  lure  it  back  to  cancel  half  a  line. 

Nor  all  your  tears  wash  out  a  word  of  it. 

—Anon. 

IN  THIS  strangest  of  all  the  world's  wars,  in 
which  empires  have  crumbled  to  dust  and 
republics  sprung  into  being  from  nothing,  in 
which  governments  of  centuries  have  been  crushed 
by  a  single  hand  and  dynasties  have  perished  over 
night;  we  have  stood  as  if  transfixed,  ready  for  any- 
thing. And  when  steamers  have  been  captured 
by  seaplanes,  airships  by  destroyers;  when  sub- 
marines and  infantry  have  alike  been  destroyed 
by  fire  from  the  air,  any  wonder  has  seemed  not 
impossible.  Yet  suppose  some  one  had  entered 
the  mess  room  of  the  New  York  on  the  twenty-first 
of  June,  1918,  had  listened  intently  to  the  never- 
ending  discussion  of  conjectures  and  opinions  as  to 
the  impending  encounter  of  the  Grand  Fleet  with 
the  High  Seas  Fleet,  to  the  assertions  of  the  tre- 
mendous and  constant  improvement  in  strength 
and  efficiency  of  the  Grand  Fleet,  to  the  problems 
in  tactics  and  fire  control  which  were  consuming 

197 


198  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN ' 

the  minds  of  thousands  and  the  dollars  of  millions; 
suppose  he  had  listened  to  those  absorbing  topics  of 
the  day  and  had  then  said,  "Gentlemen,  why  do 
you  worry?  A  year  from  to-day  the  German 
High  Seas  Fleet  will  be  lying  at  the  bottom  of 
Scapa  Flow,  in  the  very  mud  which  grips  your  an- 
chors to-night,  and  your  Grand  Fleet  shall  not 
have  fired  a  shot  to  bring  this  end  about." 

To  grasp  the  surrender  of  the  great  High  Seas 
Fleet  without  a  struggle  would  have  been  beyond 
the  minds  of  most  of  us — of  all  of  us,  I  think,  if 
placed  within  a  year.  But  to  conceive  of  that 
intact  fleet  of  mighty  fighting  ships,  lying  at  the 
bottom  of  Scapa  Flow  would  not  have  been  at- 
tempted. We  could  not  have  entertained  such 
thoughts  as  these  with  logic.  We  knew  of  no  such 
code.     We  did  not  know  the  German. 

The  charm  of  the  Orkney  Islands  lies  in  their  rest- 
fulness  rather  than  their  grandeur.  The  landscape 
does  not  overwhelm  the  beholder  with  a  sense  of  his 
insignificance,  as  great  mountains  are  apt  to  do, 
but  rather  suggests  quiet  and  peace.  To  the  Grand 
Fleet,  through  its  four  years  of  direst  strain,  they 
were  a  home.  For  the  men  and  ships  of  the  fleet, 
after  unending  hours  of  battle  with  the  havoc  which 
is  wrought  by  the  North  Sea  winter  gales,  and  the 
tense  anxiety  which  the  imminence  of  undersea 
attack  creates,  a  haven  of  rest  could  always  be 
found  in  Scapa  Flow,  that  great  natural  basin, 
landlocked  in  the  heart  of  the  Orkney  Islands. 


THE  SINKING  OF  THE  GERMAN  FLEET    199 

There,  behind  its  layers  of  nets  and  fields  of  mines, 
backed  by  an  untiring  scout  patrol,  the  Grand  Fleet 
could  lie  in  peace,  serene  and  safe.  Majestically 
the  great  ships  blended  with  the  quiet  landscape, 
always  steaming,  always  ready,  mingling  a  sense 
of  dignity  with  power. 

Few  hostile  eyes,  if  any,  have  observed  the  Fleet 
at  Scapa  Flow.  It  lay  in  a  world  apart.  The  na- 
tives on  its  shores  remained  there.  No  person 
was  allowed  to  come  to  them  unknown.  The 
British  Government  supplied  both  islanders  and 
ships  with  food  and  commodities.  A  rigid  censor- 
ship was  maintained  at  all  times  and  a  patrol  kept 
guard  about  the  islands  day  and  night  through 
four  long  years.  What  better  war  base  could 
have  been  selected  .^^  Its  solitude  made  for  work 
without  distraction.  Its  location  blocked  the 
passage  from  the  North  Sea  to  the  ocean.  Of 
course  the  oflScers  and  men  throughout  the  fleet 
soon  came  to  dread  their  stays  at  Scapa,  for  its 
utter  lack  of  diversion,  amusement,  and  civiliza- 
tion wore  on  the  stoutest  hearts.  Only  a  realiza- 
tion of  the  need  of  isolation  kept  the  Grand  Fleet 
spirits  up  through  the  long  bleak  winter  months 
at  Scapa  Flow.     Cheerfully  they  stuck  it  out. 

Then,  with  the  vision  of  Scapa  Flow  indelibly 
before  the  commanders  of  the  Grand  Fleet,  the 
German  High  Seas  Fleet  surrendered  for  intern- 
ment. No  longer  needed  as  a  Grand  Fleet  base, 
what  better  prison  could  be  found  for  the  surren- 


200  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

dered  foe.  It  might  almost  as  well  be  solitary 
confinement,  for  there  the  German  ships  and 
crews  would  be  free  from  outside  German  treach- 
ery and  could  be  held  at  practically  no  cost.  So 
the  surrendered  ships  were  led  there,  one  division 
at  a  time,  with  the  British  ensign  floating  over  them, 
and  left  in  the  peace  and  desolation  of  this  deser- 
ted haven,  stripped  of  their  armaments,  fuel, 
instruments,  and  all  but  a  few  of  their  crew,  to 
brood  upon  their  utter  failure. 

Admiral  von  Renter,  aboard  the  Grand  Fleet's 
Flagship,  Queen  Elizabeth^  in  November,  1918, 
stood  before  Sir  David  Beatty.  In  reply  to  that 
clause  in  the  surrender  terms  which  demanded  that 
the  flag  of  Germany  should  be  hauled  down  when 
her  ships  were  laid  up  at  a  British  base,  he  pro- 
tested that  it  "was  not  in  keeping  with  the  idea  of 
chivalry  between  two  honourable  opponents"  that 
their  flag  should  be  hauled  down.  Admiral  Beatty 
pointed  out  that  war  existed  during  the  Armistice, 
and  therefore  "under  the  circumstances  no  enemy 
vessel  can  be  permitted  to  fly  its  national  ensign 
in  British  waters  while  under  custody."  And  so 
our  "honourable  opponent"  surrenders  and  hauls 
down  his  flag,  is  led  to  Scapa  Flow,  stripped  of  all 
save  skeleton  crews,  and  left  under  light  guard  to 
await  the  issue. 

One  day  the  British  squadron  on  guard  steams 
out  to  the  Pentland  Firth  for  practice  exercises. 
Here  the  "honourable  opponent"  sees  his  chance  to 


A  Surrendered  German  Submarine 
Note  wireless  and  net-cutting  outfit  on  bow 


1 

The  British  Flag  on  Captured  Pirates 
The  decks  of  the  surrendered  German  '*U"  boats 


THE  SINKING  OF  THE  GERMAN  FLEET    201 

execute  one  final  underhanded  deed  in  violation 
of  the  terms  to  which  he  pledged  himself.  Weird 
sights  await  the  returning  British  squadron.  Do 
their  eyes  deceive  them?  What  are  those  violent 
explosive  shocks  .^^  Why  does  that  strange  cloud 
of  steam  rise  up  from  the  surface  of  Scapa  Flow? 
Breathlessly,  unwilling  to  believe  their  eyes,  they 
crash  full  speed  ahead  and  cleave  the  waves  to 
reach  their  custody.  No  longer  the  peaceful  haven 
of  rest  do  they  find  in  Scapa,  but  a  wild  chaotic 
turmoil.  Here  a  ship's  prow  points  skyward  as  her 
stern  sinks  rapidly.  There  a  great  pair  of  screws 
dance  aimlessly  between  them  a  rudder,  in  mid-air. 
Again,  a  hiss  of  steam  and  a  muffled  roar  as  boiler 
bursts  beneath  its  icy  plunge.  Great  monster  ships, 
millions  of  dollars  in  steel  alone,  lurch  sleepily  on 
their  sides  and  disappear.  The  British  squadron 
halts  in  awe.  Can  it  be  true?  The  German  flag 
in  Scapa  Flow?  Yes,  and  true  enough  more  than 
enough!  Crews  rowing  off  from  the  sinking  ships 
awake  the  echoes  with  arrogant  "Hochs!"  A 
nasty  business,  a  grotesque  scene!  The  British 
ships  fully  aroused  and  aware  of  venomous  treach- 
ery, dash  in  to  check  what  has  already  passed 
beyond  control.  They  call  on  their  prisoners  in 
the  boats  to  stop.  Some  do.  Others  hesitate, 
and  are  fired  upon,  point  blank.  A  few  examples 
and  the  rest  are  meek  enough;  for  they  are  Ger- 
mans. Orders  flash  to  the  German  ships  which 
are  still  floating  to  jam  the  sea  cocks,  stop  the 


202  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  RODMAN 

sinking!  Here  and  there  a  group  of  sailors  at- 
tempt to  execute  the  orders  of  their  British  cap- 
tors, and  are  shot  at  once  by  their  own  officers. 
To  capture  every  one  of  the  underhanded  dogs  is 
the  only  solution,  which  the  British  set  about  and 
do,  too  late  of  course  to  save  the  flooding  ships. 
Here  and  there  a  boatload  of  German  sailors 
makes  the  shore,  and  with  all  belongings  on  their 
backs  they  make  for  freedom.  Freedom!  They 
are  on  an  island  of  the  Orkneys,  despised  cast- 
aways. A  few  hours  hounding  by  a  British  de- 
tachment and  all  are  rounded  up,  a  sorry  lot  indeed. 
Another  chapter  added  to  their  villainy,  and  still 
the  bloody  German  head  remains  unbowed. 

Admiral  von  Renter,  having  accomplished  what 
his  proud  countrymen  are  wont  to  call  a  "hand- 
some deed,"  attempts  to  justify  his  act  by  attaching 
to  the  word  "interned"  a  meaning  it  was  never  in- 
tended to  convey  in  the  text  of  the  armistice.  He 
forgets  that  the  fleet  which  might  have  gone  down 
fighting  preferred  to  be  branded  with  the  undying 
disgrace  of  a  cowardly  surrender.  He  goes  so 
far  as  to  create  a  state  of  warfare  with  his  conquer- 
ers  while  they  were  dictating  the  terms  of  peace  to 
his  whipped  country.  Breaking  his  worthless 
German  pledges  without  a  qualm,  he  orders  that 
his  disarmed  battle  fleet,  of  which  he  was  the  care- 
taker, be  sunk  at  anchor  while  the  British  guards 
are  out  for  practice  exercises.  And  his  perverted 
German  mind  imagines  that  this  sneaking  act  will 


THE  SINKING  OF  THE  GERMAN  FLEET    203 

redound  to  the  glory  of  the  German  navy  as  a 
show  of  martial  spirit  and  defiance.  He  has  con- 
fused his  base  dishonour  with  a  gallant  death  in 
battle  on  ships  which  by  his  order  refuse  to  yield. 

The  wave  of  indignation  with  which  the  nation 
greeted  the  news  of  the  sinking  of  the  German  fleet 
is  well  voiced  by  the  New  York  Times.  "The 
British  are  right  when  they  say  the  handsome 
deed  was  a  'deliberate  violation  of  the  armistice' 
and  'treachery.'  But  whatever  the  scuttling  may 
be  called,  it  reacts  with  the  effect  of  infamy  upon 
the  German  name.  The  admiral  orders  his  fleet 
sunk  as  an  act  of  war,  and  then  hoists  the  white 
flag  on  the  boat  he  escapes  in  to  induce  the  foe 
defied  to  save  his  sailors  from  drowning.  German 
oflScers  shoot  down  seamen  who  obey  a  British 
order  to  close  the  open  valves,  and  these  same 
officers,  safe  on  British  decks,  click  their  heels  to- 
gether and  salute  one  another  with  a  feeling  of 
having  done  a  historic  thing  that  would  ring 
through  the  ages  and  shed  unfading  lustre  upon 
German  arms.  Human  nature,  in  this  case  racial, 
is  poor  indeed  that  demeans  itself  so  shamefully." 

Who  is  to  blame  .f^  It  is  the  natural  question 
rising  in  the  throat  of  nearly  every  man  as  he  indig- 
nantly reads  of  this  climactic  scandal.  To  answer 
it  is  neither  just  nor  wise.  We  are  men  of  a  nation 
whose  code  is  honour,  whose  traditions  are  honour- 
able, whose  acts  in  war  are  chivalrous.  We  have  seen 
the  treachery  of  the  German  code  to  be  sure,  and 


204  BEATTY,  JELLICOE,  SIMS,  AND  HODMAN 

so,  when  dealing  with  him,  use  the  utmost  care,  and 
sheathe  our  weapon  only  when  he  is  disarmed  and 
powerless.  But  it  is  not  even  yet  in  our  nature  to 
imagine  that  the  German  mind  will  resort  to  the 
extremes  of  infamy.  We  are  naturally  inclined 
to  treat  with  them  as  men,  when  utterly  disarmed 
and  given  over  to  our  care.  And  so  the  tangible 
blame  for  the  sinking  of  the  German  ships  lies  with 
our  failure  to  realize  that  the  racial  German  nature, 
in  victory  or  defeat,  is  utterly  without  honour, 
without  scruple,  without  shame. 

The  case  of  Admiral  von  Renter  should  be  used 
as  an  example.  For  his  deliberate  violation  of 
the  terms  of  the  armistice  and  the  destruction  of 
millions  of  dollars'  worth  of  ships  which  were  no 
longer  the  property  of  Germany,  he  should  be  tried 
by  an  Allied  tribunal.  His  act  and  its  retribution 
should  be  so  flaunted  before  the  German  people, 
whose  standards  of  right  and  wrong  are  so  hope- 
lessly confused,  that  the  idea  would  finally  dawn 
upon  them  that  the  deed  was  not  ''handsome"  but 
infamous.  To  claim  the  fleet  well  sunk  evades  the 
question.  Ton  for  ton  the  German  ships  destroyed 
in  Scapa  Flow  should  be  replaced  from  German  ship- 
yards to  the  Allies,  such  increase  being  added  to  the 
German  reparation  bill.  That  would  send  home  the 
sentiment  with  which  we  meet  such  villainy.  For 
the  loss  is  not  so  definite  in  material  as  is  the  injury 
to  the  Allied  pride  in  honour. 

THE  END 


THE   COUNTRY   LIFE   PBE88 
GABDEN  CITY.  N.  T. 


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STAMPED  BELOW 

AN     INITIAL     FINE     OF     25     CENTS 

WILL    BE   ASSESSED    FOR    FAILURE  TO    RETURN 
THIS    BOOK   ON    THE   DATE   DUE.     THE   PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO   50  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY     AND    TO     $1.00     ON     THE    SEVENTH     DAY 
OVERDUE. 

APR  131946 

w 

y^^ 

REC'D  LD 

^-At«* 

ftPR    feBB-SPH 

'^^f^  9  9  , 

i^lAY  15  ^93^ 

MAR    3  1937 

MAH    28  1845 

APR    25  1945 

LD  21-2m-l,'33  (52m) 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


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